Yume
by Tsukitani
Summary: ON HIATUS Visited nightly by a seductive vision, Sesshoumaru vows the woman who seems to be able to harness the power of Tetsusaiga will become his. His search leads him to Kagome, whose powers are beginning to manifest in shocking ways. SK
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha-tachi---that honor goes to Takahashi Rumiko. I do, however, own an embarrassingly large amount of manga for a grown woman, oh!--and a wad of dryer lint.  
  
**Revamped a bit to clarify---no big changes. I have an update list for this fic, so email me with your address and I'll add you!**  
  
Yume  
  
Chapter 1  
  
It was that dream again. He knew instantly because it was the same scenario nightly, for the past month. It chased him down, hounding him like the vengeance of hell, until he gave in and let himself be drawn into the same familiar events his subconscious mind played out for him.  
  
Aggravating---that's what it was, for the dream somehow weakened his emotional barriers, opening him to a display of feelings he thought mastered long ago. It was what made it so enraging...and seductive. It called to him, and no matter how he tried to resist, even his formidable will was no match for the inexorable pull it exerted upon him.  
  
The pull she exerted upon him.  
  
Power and beauty, but mostly power.  
  
He hated to admit it, but it radiated from her in an almost visible aura of blinding pink-white energy, surrounding her like a cocoon, as if what was presented was not her true form and she was simply waiting for the time her power would mature her into something...more.  
  
He hated her.  
  
He wanted her.  
  
She stood before him, the only bright point of light in a faded, moon- washed dream scape. Bathed in moonlight, fair skin glowing and flawless, she beckoned him with her utter stillness, as if the nonchalant pose was a spell in and of itself, demanding his attention, like a compulsion.  
  
Her white gi reflected the light with pristine brilliance, but her hakama, once red, were bled of all color by the night. They appeared grey, as if she were clothed in dim, indistinct shadows from the waist down. The strange effect of the lunar light made it seem that she was only half there- -shining and pure from the waist up, but her legs nothing more than a dream within a dream; ghostly grey and vaporous.  
  
Half a woman.  
  
Half a soul.  
  
Raven hair twisted about her shoulders in the breeze. Ribbons of midnight silk against alabaster skin, flowing in liquid streams driven by the wind that seemed to affect only her. Her dark, luminous eyes were locked onto his poised figure, holding his golden gaze unblinkingly. Daring him to approach.  
  
Those eyes were what always remained with him long after he awoke--the only clear memory he took with him from the realm of the dream. They held secrets and the key to mysteries deeper than even he could know. Secrets older than he was; older than his father, even.  
  
Ancient. Powerful. Compelling.  
  
Seductive.  
  
Her look was ethereal, timeless, and infinitely promising. A promise of power: power of raw sensuality, power of magic, power of domination. Power of something else he couldn't quite name. Something he was afraid to name.  
  
No he, Sesshoumaru, was never afraid. He was only wary, for his heart stirred uneasily when he gazed upon her. It was simply the foreign, unwanted nature of that nameless...something...that made him suspicious.  
  
It also made him angry.  
  
As always, though, her promise of power drew him like a magnet, and he felt his feet unwillingly taking his tall, elegant form toward the statuesquely still woman. His usual graceful, gliding gait closed the distance between them slowly, drawing out the tension to a fine thread until he stood inches before her, towering over her petite figure, hoping to intimidate.  
  
He knew she would not be, though. It was not just a piece of knowledge gained by a month of nights playing out the same unchanging scenario--it was instinctual, this sudden, sure knowledge that she would never cower before him, never back down in the face of his vast superiority. It only served to inflame him further, stoking the fires of his rage...and his passion.  
  
She blinked once, slowly, as if taking in his face and figure, processing his trademark aristocratic beauty, the fire in his amber gaze, the lean musculature of his chest, arms and legs...then moving on without a second thought. Turning, she gracefully began to walk away.  
  
He quivered in suppressed fury that she would dismiss him so easily, but he was trapped within this dream body, aware of his surroundings, but unable to affect much in this non-corporeal form.  
  
He followed.  
  
How he hated her for that! That he, a lord, a prince among the greatest creatures in creation, should feel obliged--no, need--to trot along after a mere human, like a dog on a leash. It was not to be borne. But, no matter how steely his will, he could not convince his feet to obey his commands. And he had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity about her.  
  
He did not worry about where she was leading him, or for what purpose--he had been through this set of events many times and neither the beginning nor the end had changed. But the woman herself drew him.  
  
She was simply human---belonging to that weak, pathetic race---yet was seemingly formed in an entirely different mold than her brethren. She was soft, yes, but with a current of unyielding steel in her spine. Human, but possessing an intensely magical aura...beautiful, sweet, seductive.  
  
A paradox, a puzzle, and he intensely hated not being able to solve the mystery she embodied.  
  
He hated feeling the need to.  
  
So he followed her through the misty forest wordlessly, trapped by his conflicting desires. Trapped by the primal urge to rend her delicate flesh for the temerity of compelling him to feel anything at all, and by the almost desperate need to unravel the tangled knot of curiosity and lust she engendered within him.  
  
Finally, she stopped at the edge of a clearing. A grove of cherry trees awaited them, bare branches whipping in an unseen, icy wind. As she laid one tiny foot inside the boundaries of the open space, the branches halted their frantic motions, as if calmed by her very presence. He wished he could calm himself around her in the same manner.  
  
Lifting one delicate hand, pale skin glowing in the light of the moon, she tilted her palm outward to face the trees. Blossoms burst from buds born of her power, abruptly conceived from the nothingness of winter in a weird twisting of time. She had brought life to something dead, or at least sleeping.  
  
Idly, he thought the effect must be similar to how he appeared to lesser beings when he used his enhanced speed to move. A sudden blur of movement, giving the illusion that he had disappeared and reappeared from the ether; that the observer was somehow stuck in a pocket of time, stationary, while the world revolved on without them.  
  
It made him slightly queasy, and he could feel his teeth grinding in rising ire. It was an effect that only added one more reason to kill her, if he could ever find her true body. Strangely, he did not doubt that she existed in fact, but he was never given a clue to her identity, other than her miko's garb. She never spoke.  
  
In the clearing, glinting in the moonlight, was the broken edge of something that used to be sharp, embedded in the very center of the ring of now-flowering trees. Pale petals of dying cherry blossoms floated around the broken and pitted line of steel like the souls of soldiers slain in battle. The once-deadly instrument was a battered katana, neglected and rusting.  
  
Lonely. Pulsing. Calling out to him.  
  
He recognized the blade instantly.  
  
Movement caught his gaze and his focus sharpened, locking onto a figure emerging from the circle of trees directly opposite his own position. As he did each dreamtime, he thought for a brief moment that he was gazing into a mirror: white haori and hakama, long silver hair floating in the breeze, golden eyes...but the other figure did not carry a sword, and did not move with his own signature grace. It strutted, rather than stalked, and this other carried an empty scabbard in his sash.  
  
As if the emergence of the figure was some sort of cue for movement, the woman took her final steps, closing the distance between herself and the sword. She moved to stand before it, slightly off to the side so he had a clear line of sight to his doppelganger--a reflection he had no desire to look upon, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from those so like his own, burning with a golden fire fueled by hatred and resentment.  
  
He moved closer to the blade he had coveted for so long, spent such boundless amounts of time and energy searching for, only to have it torn from his grasp at the last, critical moment...  
  
As the youkai lord locked eyes with his counterpart, this creature who had stolen his full power, his inheritance from his father, he felt the familiar burning rage bubbling up inside once again. Searing, scalding, it showed in eyes now bleeding a satanic red. He felt the overpowering desire to rip, to rend, to tear this imposter representative of his father's blood flesh from bone.  
  
As he was gathering his demon energy around him--a cloak of violent power preparing his body to abandon its weaker form in favor of his true, magnificent size--though, the woman moved again.  
  
Seemingly oblivious to Sesshoumaru's towering rage, his killing instincts, she reached out a pale hand to grasp his own, slender fingers curling around his clenched fist without hint of fear or hesitation.  
  
Has the woman no sense of self-preservation? He thought in that brief instant before flesh met flesh.  
  
The effect of her touch was instantaneous. Immediately, enveloped in the soothing warmth of her scent, his muscles relaxed. The extreme fury of a moment before melted, draining out of his body in a wave, a wash of...was this peace? Is that what he felt? He wasn't certain--it had been so long since he had experienced anything like it, if he ever had at all.  
  
At his side, Tenseiga emitted a single, strong pulse.  
  
The woman seemed oblivious to her profound effect on the deadly predator, merely turning her head to gaze steadily into his eyes, insinuating her fingers into his clenched fist until the digits entwined with his in a gentle hold.  
  
When she moved her head to gaze at the other, the demon prince noticed the halfling had moved to stand directly before the sword, as well, no more than an arm's length away. Well within striking distance. Sesshoumaru no longer felt the need, though, content to simply wait for further developments.  
  
The woman reached out to hold his opponent's hand as well, though she did not lace fingers as theirs were, only wrapped about the hanyou's loosely. A spurt of something hot and dangerous moved through his chest, scorching a path upward from the pit of his stomach, causing his heart to clench.  
  
Without turning back to face him, she squeezed his hand, as if sensing his dangerous regression to anger, though he didn't know if she felt the peril of his ire was to her, his opposite, or to himself. His emotions were rarely so unruly that he couldn't think straight.  
  
The half-breed appeared to be uncomfortable with her hold, but did not move to pull away.  
  
Does my face show the same discomfort and confusion at this human's soporific touch? He thought.  
  
The Western Lord did not want to think his stoic mask was slipping, but at least this was only a dream.  
  
Still, one has to have standards.he sniffed disdainfully.  
  
The woman pulled on the hanyou's hand, tugging it closer to the battered sword and wrapping his stiff fingers about the hilt. Again, that red haze drifted across Sesshoumaru's vision, and again she gave a reassuring squeeze, effectively nullifying his rising rage. Jealousy? Or simply anger that she seemed to be condoning the imposter's claim to *his* birthright. She seemed to be cautioning patience, though, as if saying 'all is not revealed yet'.  
  
Her raven head swung back to face him, dark eyes piercing, locked onto his own hawk-bright gaze, delicate features beginning to betray some emotion through the slight softening of lines, but he could not name it. She tugged on his hand now, urging the taiyoukai one more step closer to the katana, and his nemesis.  
  
He tried to resist--oh, how he tried! But it was useless, for he was powerless against the soft light in her eyes as she maneuvered him easily to stand before the neglected steel blade.  
  
How he hated her!  
  
How he longed to touch her.  
  
She guided his own fingers to the already occupied hilt, wrapping the elegant, deadly digits around the cracked leather, and Tenseiga pulsed again. Disorientingly, his skin never once came in contact with the flesh of his cursed half-brother. His hand passed right through the halfling's, as if the other were merely an illusion---a ghost or insubstantial image.  
  
A bad dream, a small voice said, almost hopefully.  
  
Staring at the two hands locked on the last remnant of their father's legacy, Sesshoumaru wondered if his senses were failing him. But no, he could smell the delicate scent of cherry blossoms and warm woman and magic drifting to him on the clean spring breeze that was sifting through his long tresses. He could hear the rustling of tree branches, feel the frayed bindings on the hilt under his fingers...so why?  
  
He turned his head sharply to glare at the woman, certain this was her doing, demands for an explanation patent in his glowing amber gaze.  
  
She merely reached out and laid her hand over both of the overlapping digits on the sword, further binding their fingers to the hilt, and to each other. A visual representation of the blood bond they shared. Irrefutable, unchangeable, and unwanted. He heard his teeth grind viciously together, even as her touch sent waves of calm through his body.  
  
Dimly, he became aware of a premonition of power, heralded by a shiver sliding across his skin and skipping down his spine. In a blaze of golden fire, the rusted and battered blade was transformed into a great, curved length, deadly and powerful, pulsating beneath all three hands and brought forth by her call.  
  
Tessaiga.  
  
His father's fang---no, their father's fang.  
  
The thought was like acid in his mind, and left a vile taste in his mouth. To think that this...halfling mutt...carried the potent, noble blood of his proud and powerful father---it was an utter disgrace. It turned his stomach and enraged him beyond credence.  
  
More shocking still, though, was that a mere human, a pitiful creature if ever there was one, had orchestrated the shift from broken blade to formidable fang.  
  
The great demon prince was in actual awe. He was touching the sword without any resistance from the barrier that had previously prevented him from wielding it and claiming his birthright, from claiming his full power as a demon lord. Power he needed to rule the Western Lands without contention from squabbling, power-hungry enemies. Power he needed to keep peace and carry on his sire's wise rule. Power that had been stolen from him by a worthless, tainted half-creature. Power he could now wield, but apparently only through the woman.  
  
It galled him to no end, but Sesshoumaru was willing to sacrifice his pride to carry on the traditions of his forefathers and ensure the stability of the Western Lands for his own heirs. The woman would be his. The fire of determination burned in his eyes, a blazing inferno of conviction and iron will. Shaking her head slightly, the human woman removed her hand from the hilt, and the once-magnificent fang shrank in on itself until it was once again nothing more than a rusted strip of steel.  
  
Suddenly, it crackled to life, arcs of golden energy and black fire dancing along the length, stinging his hand. He pulled it away smoothly, not betraying the pain produced by the now-familiar barrier that had always repulsed his demon blood before, but had abruptly revived in the absence of the woman's placid touch.  
  
With satisfaction, the Lord of the Western Lands noted that his rival was soothing a burned hand, as well. So, the hanyou had been driven away from the sword also? Interesting. The implication was clear: the human woman was the key to controlling the power of the Tessaiga. But how to harness her power, when he didn't understand how it worked, where it came from, or even who she was? Only one other had touched the Tessaiga, and she was human as well...  
  
Sesshoumaru studied the woman beside him closely. Though her features were clearly illuminated in the moonlight, they still remained somehow indistinct, fuzzy, blurred around the edges, as if viewed through rain. When he attempted to put them to memory, the details slipped right through his mind, like liquid through fingers, leaving behind only fragments of the total.  
  
Tonight, then, he would gain a solid clue that would lead him to her. Tonight would be different from the countless other nights he had come away from this dream with nothing other than the memory of her dark, compelling eyes and sweet, seductive scent.  
  
With a supreme effort of will, he forced phantom lips to form audible words.  
  
"Who are you, woman?" the sharp question was both harsh demand and pitiful plea, and he clenched his jaw with the force of his self-directed anger. Control...  
  
As if sensing the tenuousness of his emotional control and agreeing now was indeed the time to finally move matters forward, she turned to face him fully, shattering the routine set and repeated on previous nights.  
  
Stepping closer, moving herself away from the sword, she placed her back to the hanyou in a move that seemed somehow symbolic, shutting his cursed brother out of her long-awaited revelation and enclosing just the two of them in their own narrow sphere of epiphanies.  
  
Though his shock did not reveal itself on his blank, stoic face, he could not suppress his surprise when she gracefully shrugged out of her sleeves, the soft folds of fabric falling to drape around her waist and hips, held on by the tie of her hakama.  
  
A hot rush of need swept the stoic taiyoukai as he drank in the bare, luminescent perfection of her skin, from slender shoulders to tiny waist. The swell of her breasts, the sharp outline of her fragile collarbone, the long line of her throat...  
  
He recognized the rare emotion he was experiencing for what it was--aching lust--and was vaguely disgusted with himself for it. He, Sesshoumaru, descendant of an ancient line of supremely powerful taiyoukai, had better control than this in the worst of situations. But to feel such unexpected, unwelcome, naked desire---such animal need---for a human, no less, was...unconscionable.  
  
He had to regain his control; he was dangerously on the edge of reaching out, dragging her to him, and plundering those plump, moist lips, torturing her with sensual delights until she willingly spilled her secrets, and more...  
  
As a powerful youkai lord, though, he would resist the call of the blood pounding fiercely in his veins, threatening to overtake his reason and aesthetics. He refused to shame the dignity of his noble house by abandoning the most basic emotional control, even though his fingers itched to feel the smooth texture of her skin, taste it, if only to prove to his tingling tongue that, yes indeed, it was as sweet as her scent...  
  
Shaking off the unwanted urges, he concentrated on the unspoken messages embedded in her eyes, in her actions. Sesshoumaru didn't truly believe the woman was attempting to seduce him, but that most primal part of him wasn't listening to reason and logic. It wanted to mate.  
  
There was no answering desire in her gaze, however, though they did hold a mysterious glow, as if a light was trapped deep within her being and she was only now beginning to release it and hint at her true power.  
  
Once again, she reached for his hand, but this time extended one of his perilously clawed fingers towards her, holding it in a pose, as if he were pointing at her. She took one more step closer to him, her breasts almost brushing against his armor-clad chest, and the youkai prince had the fleeting, absurd wish that the restricting barrier would disappear so he could feel hot skin against hot skin.  
  
His eyes flicked briefly, tellingly, to his brother, standing alone and silent, seemingly unaware of events going on around him. It was as if, when she turned her attention away, he became removed from the scene. The lord was searching for a reaction, but none came. He didn't know why he thought the halfling would care; perhaps it was an unconscious reaction.  
  
Or perhaps it meant something. Did he know, on some subliminal level, who this enticing, infuriatingly wordless woman was?  
  
With a startlingly quick movement, his wandering attention came back when she jerked his hand toward her. He felt the deadly edge of his outstretched claw bite into her white skin, razoring a clean line in her side, low on her rib cage. He vaguely registered the feel of his hand brushing against the satiny underside of her breast before the crimson torrent of blood flowed from the wound, black in the moonlight and staining the pristine whiteness of her skin and gi.  
  
Is she trying to kill herself, using me as the instrument? His confused question was answered when she released his hand, only to delve those slender fingers into the wound, seemingly searching for something.  
  
Without so much as a grimace of pain, she pulled forth a small, glowing sphere, all traces of blood miraculously absorbed into its pulsating depths. He'd never seen it before, but he recognized it all the same, on some instinctual level. The pink-white light was similar to that glimpsed in her eyes just seconds ago, and the pulse of heady power, unequaled by anything he had ever encountered before, was in tune with the woman's own heartbeat. His changed tempo to match.  
  
When all three pulses were synchronized, the woman reached out to lay her soft hand upon his ruined left shoulder.  
  
As soon as her skin made contact with his, a blinding flash of cleansing, magical light erupted within the clearing. Warmth poured through his body and exited through the truncated bicep where his arm used to be. Only now, it was back, returned as if it had never been painfully and humiliatingly hacked off by his cursed half-brother with the very blade he had searched out for so long.  
  
Turning amazed, golden eyes up from the miraculous sight to the tiny woman who wielded such awesome power, he was inundated with the feel of her aura, twined inseparably with that of the pulsing, glowing jewel still resting in her hand. Her liquid eyes met his, and she seemed to be trying to communicate with him, soul to soul.  
  
Realization struck, and he knew he had been given much more than his missing limb back--now he had direct knowledge of what her aura, that most individual signature of inner being, felt like. Now he knew what power she controlled, sitting innocently in her palm.  
  
She was it's guardian--or perhaps it guarded her. It mattered not. The way to seek her out was to seek out the jewel.  
  
The Shikon no Tama.  
  
He regarded his newly restored limb with amazement, reveling in the return of symmetry and balance. After absently noting with detached startlement the flood of relief he felt upon seeing the familiar, now matching, stripes gracing his wrists, he turned his golden irises back to the woman. He was irritated to find that he felt...grateful...to this human, but he could not deny the fact that she had just performed him a great service. His lips twisted wryly, wondering what price she would extract from him, but he couldn't halt the whispered words that tumbled from them.  
  
"Who are you?" a repetition of his earlier inquiry, but now awe and gratitude colored the simple syllables, and he cringed at the weakness in himself they revealed.  
  
Just as he felt his haughty, cold mask slipping comfortably back into place, though, she moved. Looking over her shoulder to the other man, she gazed at the shadowy figure for a long moment, then nodded minutely, giving him some silent cue to action. Her focus returned forward.  
  
A sudden, inexplicable foreboding gripped him, making the fine hairs on his nape stand on end. Rising behind her, like some demonic avenger, was his half brother. The youkai prince never saw him move, he was simply there, white hair whipping in an unseen wind, expression eerily blank.  
  
Sesshoumaru watched with growing confusion and dawning horror as the hanyou advanced a last step, woodenly lifted his arm and brought razor-sharp claws down across the woman's back, just at the apex of her right shoulder. The vicious slash caused a spray of blood, casting strangely delicate patterns against skin and ground.  
  
She crumpled into the taiyoukai's waiting arms, pitched forward by the force of the traitorous blow, black blood glistening in the moonlight, soaking into his clothing, matting her hair against her skin as it paled even more with the loss. He felt a knot of torrid, roiling pressure rising in his chest, blocking his breathing as he cradled her limp form against his chest, her hot blood flowing slickly over his hands as they pressed to her slender back.  
  
The Western Lord could feel his lips moving with mindless, soundless words-- -the same pattern of denial forming over and over, but all sound had ceased to exist. A haze of rage settled over his mind, scarlet as her blood, threatening to snap his iron control.  
  
Distantly, he was alarmed that the mortal wounding of such a pitiful creature, though seemingly unjust, would cause any kind of reaction in him, but he could not fight the livid force of vivid, unequaled emotion frantically thrashing for release. Who was this woman, that she should garner such a response--any response?  
  
And then, the question didn't matter any more as the raging beast within broke its tether, spurred on by the coppery scent of her life blood, liberating itself in violent fury and intense sorrow. A tormented growl, beginning low in his chest and rising, swelled in volume until the unearthly silence of the dreamscape was broken for the first time in the entire month he had repeated the same cycle.  
  
Crushing the lifeless body of the beautiful young miko to him, he briefly bowed his head over her, the silken silver fall of his hair shielding their locked forms from all else. He wove his fingers into her midnight tresses, and then threw back his head to release the long, anguished howl of mourning clawing up from his chest.  
  
As the sound of his grief and rage echoed into the night and the dream began to quickly fade around the edges, one realization burst upon him with the crystal clarity of inarguable truth:  
  
He loved her.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Okay, here it is, my first foray into Inuyasha. I got such a great response from everyone that I decided to keep this fic up---you all inspire me so much! Quite a few people seemed to be confused by this chapter, though, so I revamped it just a bit. I hope it helps, as I don't really plan on doing anything more drastic with it. I didn't want to ruin the integrity of the work, just tighten it up.  
  
Anyway, let me know what you think...is it horrible? Too vague? Intriguing? Overdone? Review me!  
  
Tsukitani 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha-tachi, that honor goes to Takahashi Rumiko. My dryer lint collection, though, is slowly growing. I'm thinking of fashioning a fluffy boa/pelt/muffler-thingy, just so I can be like Sesshoumaru. What do you think?  


Yume  
  


Last Chapter:  
  


And then, the question didn't matter any more, as the raging beast within broke its tether, spurred on by the coppery scent of her life blood, liberating itself in violent fury and intense sorrow. A tormented growl, beginning low in his chest and rising, swelled in volume until the unearthly silence of the dream scape was broken for the first time in the entire month he had repeated the same cycle. Crushing the lifeless body of the woman to him, he briefly bowed his head over her, the silken silver fall of his hair shielding their locked forms from everything else. He wove his fingers into her midnight tresses, then threw back his head to release the long, anguished howl of mourning clawing up from his chest.   
  


As the sound of his grief and rage echoed into the night and the dream began to quickly fade around the edges, one realization burst upon him with the crystal clarity of inarguable truth: He loved her.  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  


Chapter 2  
  
  


The group had settled down for the night, choosing a small clearing in the forest a short distance from the road--well, path really--they had been traveling. As usual, Inuyasha had complained about the 'weak humans' needing to rest their exhausted bodies, but he had managed to locate a spot for camp within close proximity to a small lake. Kagome smiled to herself. The gruff half-demon was always like that: putting on airs that he didn't give a damn about the comforts of his traveling companions, namely herself, but somehow managing to provide that small thing that always made her happy. A swimming hole. In the colder months, he tried his best to find hot springs, but now, in the sultry heat of high summer, the coolness of a lake would be a welcome refreshment, indeed. Now, if the girls could only keep Miroku from peeping...  
  


After a long three weeks of shard hunting, the close-knit group was bone-weary. Even Inuyasha, the seemingly tireless hanyou, argued less vehemently than usual about stopping early for the night. Since Kagome had (miraculously) graduated high school a few weeks ago, she had let Inuyasha convince her to spend most of her time in the Sengoku Jidai. She sighed. She may have finally completed her secondary education, but it still was a bit of a disappointment that she would not be continuing on to university. Not right now, at least. But she couldn't ignore her responsibilities, or the now-desperate race against Naraku to collect the last of the jewel shards. And her friends...  
  


Sango's brother, Kohaku, was one of the last known possessors of a shard, as Kouga had forfeited his in battle against a particularly nasty detachment of Naraku that had left him a little more than half-dead. It had taken all of Kagome's and Kaede's combined efforts--and a great deal of future medicines--to get the wolf prince out of danger and on the road to recovery. Kagome didn't want to think about Miroku. The curse placed upon his grandfather by Naraku, and passed onto him, was soon nearing the point where the void in his hand would consume him. The once-boyish, upbeat houshi now had a perpetual shadow lingering in his kind blue eyes, and he did not sleep well at night. Judging from bits and pieces of information gathered from the perverse monk about his father's demise, Kagome and Miroku estimated he had another eight to ten months, a year at most, before the Kazaana consumed him.  
  


It was that deadline which truly drove the group now, placing an almost desperate edge to their hunt. Inuyasha and Kagome hardly ever argued about her returning home, because she spent most of her time in the past now. Too afraid of what may happen while she was gone, frightened that her friends might die without her ever getting to say goodbye. Terrified that, if she had only been there more often, seen something, sensed a shard a little sooner, she could prevent a disaster. Her fear and worry had progressed to the point where even Inuyasha had pulled her aside to scold her for running herself into the ground. More often than not, it was she who motivated the group to continue, even though there was hardly ever a trace of a new shard.   
  


So, they chased rumors. Moving from village to village, tracking the faint paths of gossip, blood and death. Shadowing Naraku when they could, but usually not catching any sign of him. After he had killed Kikyou, the evil hanyou had faded into obscurity again, leaving behind only some new detachments to occupy them for a while. By the time they had been defeated, Naraku was long gone and well hidden.  
  


Surprisingly, the group encountered Sesshoumaru with increasing frequency over the ensuing years, the great youkai prince puzzlingly intent on tracking Naraku down, although he never voiced his purpose. No one knew if the powerful taiyoukai intended to defeat the hanyou, or join him. Kagome wouldn't be surprised at either answer. The lord was so damned stoic, so impossible to read--cold face, hot eyes, violent, ruthless...yet traveling with an adorable, precocious, fragile girl. A human girl. A *noisy* human girl. Kagome shook her head and tried to put the beautiful, predatory demon from her mind, instead turning her thoughts to the brother.  
  


Inuyasha had settled on the ground, leaning against the trunk of a tree close to her. As she lay in her sleeping bag, feet to the fire to minimize the heat, she let her eyes stray over her friend, her protector, her first love. A smile tilted the corners of her lips up as she remembered how she used to angst over his love for her incarnate, the original protector of the Shikon no Tama. Kikyou. That sad, lonely woman who died believing her lover had betrayed her, courtesy of everyone's favorite evil villain, Naraku. Yet, no matter how the bitter miko impeded the budding relationship of the girl from the future and the heartsore hanyou, no matter that the revived and undead woman tried to kill both Inuyasha and Kagome, she still could not bring herself to feel more than pity and compassion Kikyou. It was unfortunate that the lovers fell into Naraku's trap over fifty years ago, and tragic that the once-pure miko was revived with nothing more than hate to sustain her, feeding off the souls of innocents just to survive long enough to carry out her revenge on Inuyasha. Kagome knew she could not compete with the kind of complex bond the two had shared, involving life-debts, passion, betrayal and guilt. Over time, she found that she wanted to less and less.   
  


Kagome finally came to the realization that wishing for things to be different between herself and her first love was only taking away from what they shared now, tainting it with a bitter edge just as surely as his relationship with Kikyou was tainted. Fifty years, another incarnation, and still Naraku was destroying lives. So Kagome gave up on wishing and settled down to enjoying reality, building on the trust and affection until the naive human and worldly-wise hanyou shared a deep, unbreakable bond of friendship--and yes, love--not even Naraku could shatter. It was a victory, of sorts, and she took it that way. So did Inuyasha, and since Kikyou's release from this existence, he had slowly begun to show more tolerance for displays of affection. He even sometimes instigated, though they still argued like cats and dogs, and he occasionally got 'sat'. Now, though, they shared the kind of comfortable relationship only people of long, intimate acquaintance do.   
  


On rare occasions, Kagome still found herself wondering what it would be like to experience passion with Inuyasha, to have him love her as a man loves a woman. She unerringly emerged from those fantasies knowing that, should it occur, there would always remain the knowledge, deep within her heart, that she was second choice. Inuyasha had chosen Kikyou over her long ago, and even recognizing he did not do so with the intention to hurt her, nothing could erase that fact from her mind. Kagome had finally gained enough self-respect to learn what Inuyasha had known those years ago when he first made the decision: she deserved to be first in someone's heart, never doubting she is loved for who she is, not who she resembles. It made her love him all the more, and she was intensely grateful for the unusual display of wisdom that protected her adolescent heart from an even graver wound.  
  


With wistful sigh at her melancholy, bittersweet thoughts, Kagome closed her eyes and almost immediately slipped off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Inuyasha would watch over her from close by.  
  


*******************************  
  


It was that dream again. The same one she had dreamed every night for the past month, but different somehow... The perspective had changed. Before, she appeared in the dream as a spectator, hovering over the trio in the midst of the flowering cherry trees, an invisible mass of grey mist, blending seamlessly into the night sky. Indeed, she did begin the dream again as that nebulous cloud, as always audience to the silent, cabalistic communication between two brothers and a woman, but she suddenly felt a pulling sensation, dragging at her, tugging her toward the miko who uncomfortably resembled her.   
  


A dim corner of her mind registered that the woman was most likely Kikyou--or perhaps another incarnation older than that? The Shikon no Tama was forged centuries ago by the powerful holy woman Midoriko...could this be her, then?  
  


As all this sparked across her consciousness, she found herself drawn into the new body, supremely surprised to find that it didn't feel that strange. She had the sense that it was her own body, yet not; her mind seemed to be separate, yet still connected by some thin, tenuous thread that was feeding her instructions and knowledge. Though she could not access that knowledge freely, she knew with utter certainty that it had been placed in her mind, waiting with patient purpose for the time when it would be needed.  
  


Kagome felt herself moving, her body obeying the commands of another as familiar/foreign limbs swept her through the routine of the dream. New to her, though, was the flow and pulse of holy power within her, steadily increasing the closer she paced toward the familiar katana buried in the center of the clearing. When she turned to face the man behind her, she was shocked to see Sesshoumaru so close--without killing her.   
  


She laughed nervously within her mind, but knew her expression did not reveal anything of her inner, chaotic, thoughts. When she felt her hand move to touch his, though, the frisson of sensual awareness unnerved her, shooting sparks along her nerve endings and pooling heat low in her belly. She wanted to jerk her hand out of the engulfing warmth of his, wanted to untangle her fingers from his lean, deadly ones with a need bordering on desperation, but when she saw how he visibly relaxed and calmed at her touch, she was bemused into complaisance.  
  


The now-familiar sequence of guiding each brother's hand to the hilt of Tessaiga passed by without many new developments, although she wondered, as she did every night, why the blade never transformed into the great fang when Inuyasha touched it. It was frighteningly portentous, hinting at great trials ahead. She hoped she was reading too much into this. They had trouble enough already.   
  


Then she felt it. A calling in her mind, followed by a sudden spike in power. The holy energy within her answered, arising from some deep well of the soul, whipping in waves like a tempest-tossed sea, battering at her to release it's full force...She wanted to scream from the pain, from the utter joy of the primal power pulsing within, and knew she had to find an outlet for it, or pass out from the strain. Reaching out a hand, amazed that it did not tremble like a leaf in the wind, she joined her hand to the other two, her delicate fingers dwarfed by the large, deadly hands already wrapped around the hilt.   
  


In a sudden release, Kagome felt the power within her discharge, surging into the broken, rusted demon blade meant only for those possessing the blood of the Great Demon of the Western Lands, Inutaisho. With a flare of golden light, the fang appeared under their joined hands, and Kagome knew that she was the one who called forth the transformation.  
  


In her shock and amazement, she failed to notice the dream moving, sequencing on without her input or participation, until the path set on previous nights was abruptly deviated from. The new set of actions, the miraculous return of Sesshoumaru's arm, and her own--somehow expected--death at Inuyasha's hands played out before her, but was muted, filtered through her continuing shock over her ability to transform Tessaiga, and the aftermath of that incredible surge of energy...  
  


*******************************  
  


Kagome woke to the feeling of coarse warmth under her cheek, and someone shaking her shoulder rather roughly. At the gruff, insistent call of her name, she groaned and cracked open an eye.  
  


"Ugh. That crazy dream again..." she muttered, slowly realizing that her cheek was cradled on Inuyasha's thigh.   
  


His upper thigh.   
  


Blushing furiously, she pulled up to a sitting position, her friend's hand on her back to help her.   
  


"Sorry," she mumbled, supremely embarrassed, even after all this time knowing him.  
  


"Keh," came the typical reply, softly, letting her know that he didn't mind as much as he appeared to. Letting her know he was worried. His hand remained on her back, preventing her from bolting back to her own bed in embarrassment, "Stupid girl, waking us all up with your sleepwalking."  
  


Something in the tone of his voice, more than the words--as far as she knew, she didn't sleepwalk--made Kagome snap her head up to look into Inuyasha's golden eyes. In them was the typical friendly warmth, but also a light of worry and confusion.  
  


"What do you mean, Inuyasha? I don't sleepwalk."  
  


"Yeah, tell that to Tessaiga," he replied acerbically. At her bewildered expression, he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling his intense amber gaze on her. He seemed to be probing for answers to questions she didn't even know.  
  


"Inuyasha," she began warningly, "if you don't explain to me right now what you just meant, so help me I'll..." she trailed off meaningfully, but they both knew the threat was idle--this time, anyway.  
  


Huffing again, the hanyou dropped his arms, instead bringing them up to lightly clasp her shoulders. He leaned his face in closer, still peering into her eyes, his mouth a tense line. Kagome was beginning to become alarmed at his uncharacteristic behavior, and it revealed itself in the tightening of her shoulders and widening of her eyes. She bit her lip in nervousness, wondering if her dream had anything to do with her 'sleepwalking', and Inuyasha had mentioned Tessaiga...  
  


"Stop it, Inuyasha," broke in Miroku.   
  


Until that moment, Kagome had not realized that the monk was awake. In fact, Sango, Shippou and Kirara were gathered around them, as well. Apparently she had woken the entire group. Kagome felt a wave of guilt wash over her--they were all so tired and needed their rest, and here she was keeping them from sleep with her childish nightmares. But her friends didn't seem as though they were irritated with her. In fact, they appeared just as distressed, just as lost and bewildered, as Inuyasha. There was even a hint of awe in their expressions.  
  


"Just tell Kagome-sama what happened, as she apparently doesn't remember," the monk encouraged.  
  


Turning his attention back to the girl in his lap, the hanyou took a deep breath, as if composing his thoughts, or girding himself for battle. Gods, what had she done? Kagome wondered frantically. Had she molested Inuyasha? Tried to kill him? Stripped and danced a jig? No, no, then Miroku would be the one in whose lap she resided.  
  


Giving herself a little shake, she cleared her panicking thoughts and focused on Inuyasha's slowly forthcoming explanation. The words that finally emerged from his mouth, though, were so much worse than her fertile imagination could conjure up. With one simple sentence, her perception of herself turned inside out.  
  


"In your sleep, you..." he trailed off, cleared his throat, and began again, "...you transformed Tessaiga."  
  


After a moment of complete and utter stillness, in which Kagome came to the conclusion that she had misheard, she decided to correct her obviously faulty aural ability.  
  


"I'm sorry, Inuyasha. Could you repeat that, because I obviously didn't hear you right."   
  


She gave a little self-depreciating laugh, expecting the irritable hanyou to grumble about having to repeat himself to stupid women. It, therefore, unnerved her when he simply continued to gaze steadily at her, intent amber eyes boring into her own dark ones. No huffing, no rolling eyeballs, no sneer...not even a snicker. Nothing but serious concern. Uh-oh...  
  


"Kagome, you got up, walked right over to me, drew the Tessaiga, and--well..." he trailed off, one clawed hand gesticulating in mute frustration, demonstrating his inability to find the right words. At least, that's what Kagome thought.   
  


When his hand continued to remain in the air, as if poised and frozen in time, she finally understood what the unique alignment of his digits signified: he was pointing at something over her shoulder, down by her feet.  
  


Slowly, as if she was afraid to face the sight she feared would confirm Inuyasha's wild story--but moved by some morbid fascination to confront the proof that her bizarre dream was not some fevered concoction of her subconscious mind--her head swivelled stiffly to take in the object laying innocently on the ground.  
  


Shiny. Sharp. Huge. Familiar.   
  


Pulsing.  
  


Tessaiga. Still transformed.

"Oh, God..." she moaned, wanting to deny the evidence of her eyes. If she had, in reality, transformed the fang, then that would mean that her dream...was not an ordinary dream.  
  


Oh, God...she and Sesshoumaru...and Inuyasha had...  
  


"...transformed, and then you just...kinda collapsed," Inuyasha had continued speaking while her mind struggled to catch up to events, whirling with all of the implications.   
  


If she had transformed Tessaiga in the dream, and it had happened in the waking world, then would the other dream events metamorphose into reality, as well? Kagome shifted and gasped when a dull, burning sensation in her shoulder and across her back made itself abruptly known through the haze of her muddled ruminations. Groaning a little with the discomfort, which was gradually fading to a low throb, she raised slender fingers to the source of pain, brushing raven locks aside to probe at her shoulder.   
  


She heard Inuyasha and Miroku inhale sharply as the silky barrier was moved, exposing a quickly disappearing stain of...blood? Inuyasha pulled Kagome over onto her stomach, ignoring her blushing protests as her face was unceremoniously shoved into his hip. Rumbling in apprehension, he jerked the neckline of her satiny pajama top to the side, exposing the pale skin of her shoulder to his intense, probing gaze.   
  


Hissing in a breath, he growled, "What the hell...?"  
  


Kagome felt his warm, calloused fingers grazing gently over her exposed flesh, absently noting the care he took, ever mindful of his sharp claws. Normally, the tingling sensation would have caused heat to pool and curl low in her belly, but something about the tense way he held himself, the low, violent rumble deep in his chest, not to mention their audience, had her skin tightening in growing apprehension.  
  


"What is it, Inuyasha?" she queried sharply, her voice shaking slightly with the fear that she already knew what he was looking at.  
  


Forcing her way to a sitting position, though the hanyou would not let her abandon her spot between his outstretched legs, she craned her head around to get a look at the problem. She gasped when she caught sight of the marks. Marring the smooth expanse of her shoulder, running from the outer curve and disappearing back over her shoulder blade in a graceful, macabre arc were four perfectly parralleled slashes. As she watched, horror-struck, the ragged edges of the wounds ceased seeping phantom blood, pinkened, then faded until nothing was left but silver-white scars.  
  


Kagome, Inuyasha began, swallowing heavily, a look of deep, haunting anguish and confusion in his golden eyes. Knowledge and memory of another woman with echoing wounds hung in the glowing depths, what the hell happened?  
  


Still in shock, visions of her dream and reality swirling together in a cloud of uncertainty and confusion, Kagome voiced the horrifying realization that burst upon her awareness.

"You--you killed me, Inuyasha," and with those damning words, the welcoming darkness eddying around the edges of her vision rose up and engulfed her in warm arms of blessed, blank blackness.  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thank you!!!!! Such support!!!! *doing the Miss America wave* (smile and wave, smile and wave...)

Due to the surprising amount of wonderful, encouraging responses *blushes furiously* (and a sugar-high), I have elected to let peer pressure sway me *wink wink* and continue this fic (like my muse was going to let me rest, anyway). I didn't expect the response I received--I'm so flattered! You like me! You really like me! *blows kisses* And I got responses from some of my favorite authors, too! *bows humbly* But don't think I'm not going to fish for more compliments, though. You've created a monster...! ;P   
  
If you want e-mail notification of chapter updates, send me your address, okay? I'll be happy to let you know when I get my butt in gear and finish a chapter.

Review me! Critique me! Compliment me! Worship me! Just don't flame me, because I'll be forced to ignore you (a fate worse than death, I assure you).  
  
Tsukitani  
  
  


Inuyasha: Hey! I almost got some!  


TT: No, you didn't. You were being kind and helping a friend.  


Inuyasha: *pouts* But I deserve some. It's been over fifty years, dammit. Why can't I get some?  


TT: Need I remind you, you chose a certain undead-er, re-dead miko? You dug your own grave, pal. Oops! *grins sheepishly* Sorry.  


Inuyasha: Yeah, yeah. Rub it in, why don't you.  


TT: *pats doggie on the head* Yeah, well at least I don't have you as a totally asinine, immature, evil jerk. I mean, a lot of people would have killed your ass off, but not me (not like I wasn't tempted to).  


Inuyasha: C'mon, wench Just a little. Your writing sucks, but you could give me Sango, or create a character just for me and...  


TT: *fists his collar and jerks him down* You want a piece of me, dog breath? I can make your life a living hell, do you hear? Living hell!  


Inuyasha: Eh-hehehe. *prying fingers free* Now, now...let's not get worked up. It's not good for your--  


TT: Say another word and I'll pair you with Kagura.   


Inuyasha: *gasps*  


TT: *evil grin* Or Kouga...  


Inuyasha: I'll be good! I'll be good! (Bitch)  


TT: *examining fingernails* Inuyasha?  


Inuyasha: What?  


TT: Osuwari.  


Inuyasha: *crash* Bitch! How did you do that?  


TT: *walks away* Saa, na...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, Sesshoumaru, or Jaken (but who would want to?)--they belong to Takahashi Rumiko. I do own a sad excuse for an attempt at reproducing Sesshoumaru's boa/pelt/muffler-thingy out of dryer lint, but it fell apart. And got fuzz all over my house. And made me sneeze. *sigh* So, don't sue, because I'm a sad excuse for a woman.  
  
** For all you rabid Fluffy fans out there, here's your chapter! **

Yume  
  


Last Chapter:  
  


"Kagome," Inuyasha began, swallowing heavily, a look of deep, haunting anguish and confusion in his golden eyes. The knowledge and memory of another woman with echoing wounds hung in the glowing depths, what the hell happened?  
  


Still in shock, visions of her dream and reality swirling together in a cloud of uncertainty and confusion, Kagome voiced the horrifying realization that burst upon her awareness.  
  


"You--you killed me, Inuyasha," and with those damning words, the welcoming darkness eddying around the edges of her vision rose up and engulfed her in blessed, blank blackness.  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  


Chapter 3  
  


Six months. Six long, frustratingly unproductive months had passed since his last acquisition, then nothing. A brief, scattered spattering of fruitless leads, then utter silence. The darkly seductive man blew out a deceptively gentle sigh, then pursed his finely chiseled lips and opened his eyes, crimson gaze studying the dancing shapes of moonshine and shadows playing out against the delicate paper of the shoji. He shifted his back a bit, adjusting his position against the wooden door frame, and brought his right knee up a little higher so his arm could rest more comfortably against his upraised leg.   
  


The pose was artfully executed, giving him an air of casual elegance combined with thoughtful nobility, designed to make him appear wholly approachable. Not that he desired to be approachable to his servants--he much preferred them to be cowering in fear--but the habit, once formed, was troublesome to break, so he didn't bother wasting energy in the effort. Besides, if it put any underlings to a false sense of ease, all the better...it was much easier to manipulate someone not on their guard. Inciting utter terror took energy, and Naraku did not waste precious strength on anything that did not promise to benefit him eventually.  
  


For the first few months of his concealment, he had not been phased by the static state of his grand plan, but as time wore on, doubts began to insinuate themselves into his thoughts. Doubts He, who planned for every contingency, made certain that every seemingly-random turn of events went his way and never failed to achieve at least one part of a specific objective, was suddenly assailed with uncertainty. Sneaking, sliding, slithering its way into his mind, it threatened his unbreachable self-assurance. Preposterous. Unthinkable. But he refused to doubt himself--no, no.   
  


Doubt was reserved for the weak and foolish. No, he only chafed because it was obvious, through his observations of the hanyou and his miko, that they were no closer to discovering the final bit of crucial information, as well. This rendered his ability to simply steal the final shard from them, after they were exhausted from the effort expended to acquire it of course, moot. Admittedly, they were hardly ever as well-informed as he, himself, always made certain to be, but still...They were his closest competition in this race, therefore fairly well-positioned to find out leads, as well--and probably posed the greatest threat to his success. Although that cold, arrogant bastard Sesshoumaru was a close second to the dubious title of his worst enemy, Naraku was not overly concerned. He had, after all, almost succeeded in assimilating the great and powerful Lord of the Western Lands into his own body once.   
  


He still burned with remembered rage when he recalled how close he had come to achieving the absorption of that pure, unadulterated youkai power. It was one of the few times he had underestimated that bastard Inuyasha...  
  


Naraku forced himself to relax and chuckled softly to himself, closing his eyes as he pictured the seductively predatory taiyoukai as he was now, wandering aimlessly, tirelessly searching for any traces of his self-declared enemy. No doubt the frustration of perpetual failure was stretching his famed emotional control to the limits. He may even be getting reckless, which would only be to his own advantage. Naraku allowed himself a moment of self-indulgence, visualizing an enraged Sesshoumaru losing control of his demon fury; transforming into his magnificent canine form, rampaging across the countryside, bloody and tainted and viciously beautiful in the midst of his wrath...  
  


It was while he was centering his delighted thoughts on the ruthless demon lord that he felt it: a sharp surge in power, accompanied by a pulsing, glowing light emanating from an object secreted in his robes. Wrenching himself upright from his semi-reclined position, all traces of his calculated languid grace retreated in the face of his surprise. Delving one pale, slender hand into the collar of his haori, Naraku closed his fingers around a chunk of stone, suspended from a delicate silver chain around his neck. It seemed to be three-quarters of a small spherical shape, like a chunk had been chipped out of a large marble.  
  


He hissed in pain when his skin made contact with the smooth contours of the stone, and he shifted his grip to the chain instead, dragging it out of the silken confines to face his startled scrutiny. The sight that met his fiery gaze explained the burn his demon flesh received, for the almost-completed Shikon no Tama--for that is what is was--was glowing a pulsing, pinkish-white instead of the tainted black it had been rendered by its close proximity to his evil heart. Someone was purifying the jewel!  
  


As soon as this realization flashed across his mind, the stone gave one pronounced pulse, almost visibly vibrating with the force of it, and a blinding white light flared out from the heart of the holy jewel. Naraku jerked the pendant away from his body, snapping the fragile chain, flinging the stone across the room while hastily erecting a barrier around himself to protect his demon body from the deadly power pouring forth, purifying everything within its sphere of influence.  
  


It was over within the space of a single heartbeat. The incandescent light faded just as quickly as it had been born, shrinking back in on itself--a collapsed supernova of holy energy returning to the womb from which it was created. An idea burst, fully formed and immensely exciting with the force of inspiring implications, across the dark landscape of Naraku's mind: someone had activated the full power of the Shikon no Tama--without it being complete. He didn't have to ask himself how he knew this to be true, for the proof was in what he had witnessed in the split second he had glimpsed the jewel prior to the wave of destructive force that had crashed against his youki shield.  
  


In that instant, the Shikon no Tama had been whole.  
  


  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
  


Sesshoumaru's eyes snapped open, suddenly and dangerously alert. His adrenaline was still raging though his body, eyes fading from their demonic red, chest still rumbling with a low growl and remnants of the bloody vision firmly embedded in his now-conscious mind. For a brief, disorienting moment, his trademark emotional control--so essential to his existence--was no where to be found. Levering himself up to a sitting position, he lifted his elegant hands before him, certain they would be stained crimson with blood. Her blood. A shudder worked its way through his lean frame, and he noted with detached wonder that his hands were shaking ever so slightly.   
  


Letting out a deep breath, he slowly took in the peaceful sounds of the forest, grounding himself in reality. The rage and pain of the vision faded, but not the mystery--or the grief. Grief? He scoffed at himself. He, Sesshoumaru, did not feel grief, for he was no longer fool enough to allow someone close enough to create such a hazardous potential for weakness.   
  


He pushed the image of a small, sunny girl to the back of his mind. She had nothing to do with this, regardless of his mysterious tolerance of her. She was a diversion, an entertainment to ease the ennui created by centuries of living; a burden foisted upon him by the whims of the Tenseiga, that cursed, worthless sword that hung off his sash, constant reminder of his sire's humiliating legacy to him. No doubt he had meant to impart some worthless lesson upon his eldest son. He did not need to be taught about weaknesses by a sword that was not a sword; his father's downfall taught him everything he needed to know of weakness and self-betrayal. He, Sesshoumaru, did not feel anything for humans beyond contempt and, in rare cases, a certain level of tolerance. No dream female was going to cause him to discard the personal rules he had lived his life by, and which had served him so very well. Even if her power was as enticing as her scent, or a single touch of her soft hands could set his blood boiling...  
  


Sesshoumaru viciously swiped his hand in front of him, deadly claws slicing the air, wishing that it was flesh he was severing. Ah, wanton destruction would do much to cool the raging heat of his demon blood.   
  


Blood.   
  


He lifted his hands to his face once again, as if to wipe away the last impressions of the vermilion rush of hot, viscous, life draining away from her pale, still form, flowing over his hands and the soaking the ground as he threw back his head and howled his agony to the skies...  
  


Sesshoumaru grew very still, the breeze even ceasing to lift and tease the opalescent strands of his hair.  
  


Hands.   
  


Yes, he had held her with his hands. Both his hands, which were now miraculously restored to him. He lifted his face away from his palms and studied the elegant, lethal, matching limbs spread before his burning gaze in symmetrical supplication. Taunting him with the memory of the dream that wasn't a dream. Teasing him with the remembered feel of her bare skin under his touch. Daring him to believe in the promise of power she offered--and act.   
  


Sesshoumaru may scoff at weak emotional displays, choosing to ignore the feelings that rocked him to the core during his dream, but, being the supremely intelligent being he is, his mind immediately latched on to the implications of his instantaneous regeneration...and the possibilities it presented.  
  


A light slowly kindled in his golden eyes, a smouldering fire of possessiveness and triumph. The promise of power, indeed. If his vision was to be believed, the Tessaiga could finally be within his grasp. All he had to do was find this wench, this miko who was mistress of the Shikon no Tama. A human.  
  


His sensibilities shuddered at the thought of being forced to associate with one of that filthy, unitelligent race, but he could not deny the extreme strength of her power. The seductive pull of it. Though his pride may suffer breifly for it, once her usefulness was at an end, he could end the distasteful affiliation and dispose of her quickly enough. To wrest control of his father's fang from his mongrel half-brother and finally secure his lands, Sesshoumaru was willing to go to extraordinary lengths--and depths.   
  


He ignored the tiny voice that whispered of his feelings were not going to be that easy to push aside. Instead, he concentrated on the most likely candidates, and determined his first course of action. He knew just where to begin.   
  


Something close to a smile teased the corners of his stern mouth, and a predatory gleam kindled in his golden, predatory gaze. If Jaken had been present as witness, he would have run squawking in utter terror, certain the world was ending, for a low, rich, viciously amused sound was issuing from his master's throat.  
  


Sesshoumaru was laughing in anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Big, BIG thanks to everyone who reviewed. *bows and grovels* I can't believe the responses I'm still getting for this! O.o I'm so happy! *runs in circles like Rin on sugar* Aahh...just a few really quick ANs, then Fluffy has a request.

Several people have seemed slightly confused about the first chapter--it's supposed to be slightly confusing (though I don't want to lose anyone completely) because it's a dream. Yep, the entire chapter. It's supposed to have that slightly disjointed, surreal quality all good dreams have. You know, open to interpretation, fraught with hidden meaning, seeing your future in the cornflakes...sorry. Wrong analogy. Well, it's also a frightening little visit into my most vivid dreams--I always sustain this mortal injury, though I never actually die. Why is that...? 

Moving along. Yes, this IS a Kagome/Sesshou pairing. It might not seem like it for a while, even, but bear with me-drawing out the tension. I just want to keep my Maru-sama to myself as long as possible! (Sess: Get. Away. From. Me!) I didn't just want to jump into the relationship head first. She's a human who was in love with Inuyasha. He's a powerful, emotionally constipated youkai lord with fangs and claws. You do the math: they get together now, somebody gets hurt (though that could be fun, too).

Lastly, special thanks to RanmaGirl7 for defending my honor. I'm touched and moved by your staunch defense of my besmirched character! That was my first true flame, and it did hit me slightly harder than I anticipated. For a brief moment, I forgot that, yes indeed, I *did* warn in summary that this would be a Sess/Kag pairing, just as you pointed out. Even so, it was a blow that someone would complain about such a thing (who could NOT love Sess?), and when I read your review--it was like a ray of sunshine fell right on me. Thank you so much! *bows humbly*

Sess: So, when do I arrive to kill the half-breed?  
  


TT: Now, now. That's not very nice. Besides, you can't kill him.  
  


Sess: *raises eyebrow and looks down nose* And why is that?  
  


TT: Because then a certain miko, who shall remain nameless, will hate you. (Besides, I like to think the two of you can grow up enough to overcome the whole 'Die now!' thing. Baka kyoudai.)  
  


Sess: *shrugs* So?  
  


TT: Well, if she hates you then she won't fall in love with you.  
  


Sess: *sneering* Love? Why would I want to debase myself with my worthless half-brother's wench?  
  


TT: Because, if you don't fall in love with her, you have to fall in love with me. *snuggles Sess's arm*  
  


Sess: *eyes narrow dangerously* Get. Off. Me. Wench. *cracks knuckles theatrically*  
  


TT: *releases arm* Gotcha. *pouts* You could show a little love for the woman who is letting you express your softer side, you know.   
  


Sess: *growls* I don't have a softer side.  
  


TT: *snickers* Yeah. Right. And you keep Rin around for entertainment purposes only. *snorts*  
  


Sess: *swipes at TT with claws, growling*  
  


TT: Eep! Gotta run! Come see me in a week or so! Less if you review lots and lots!  
  


Sess: Don't forget to review...if you write in, I might be able to kill something sooner. *chases TT offstage, grinning madly*

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: My name is not Takahashi Rumiko, so I cannot claim ownership of Inuyasha-not legally, anyway. But I'm slightly insane (so my friends keep telling me), and my muse likes to bend the rules and pretend she owns Sesshoumaru...maybe she'll let me borrow him sometime so I can see what all that screaming is about...  
  
*** If you would like to be added to my update list, send me a review w/your email***  
  
Yume  
  
Previously:  
  
If she had transformed Tessaiga in the dream, and it had happened in the waking world, then would the other dream events metamorphose into reality, as well? Kagome shifted and gasped when a dull, burning sensation in her shoulder and across her back made itself abruptly known through the haze of her muddled ruminations. Groaning a little with the discomfort, which was gradually fading to a low throb, she raised slender fingers to the source of pain, brushing raven locks aside to probe at her shoulder.  
  
She heard Inuyasha and Miroku inhale sharply as the silky barrier was moved, exposing a quickly disappearing stain of...blood? Marring the smooth expanse of her shoulder, running from the outer curve and disappearing back over her shoulder blade in a graceful, macabre arc were four perfectly paralleled slashes. As she watched, horror-struck, the ragged edges of the wounds ceased seeping phantom blood, pinkened, then faded until nothing was left but silver-white scars.  
  
Still in shock, visions of her dream and reality swirling together in a cloud of uncertainty and confusion, Kagome voiced the horrifying realization that burst upon her awareness.  
  
"You-you killed me, Inuyasha," and with those damning words, the welcoming darkness eddying around the edges of her vision rose up and engulfed her in warm arms of blessed, blank blackness.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Kagome roused slowly, chased into wakefulness by remnants of a nightmare and low, murmured voices. Shifting under her unexpectedly light blanket (it was so light it seemed non-existent), trying to snuggle into the unexpected warmth against her side and back, she hummed in contentment and attempted to fall back into peaceful slumber. Besides, she just knew it would be a mistake to open her eyes right now, so she pretended she wasn't on that tantalizing border between dreams and reality, hoping the waking world would forget about her and just go away.  
  
Unfortunately, her pillow seemed to have other plans, and began to bounce ever so slightly, hesitantly calling her name. Studiously ignoring the summons, Kagome resolutely determined to sink back into blissful sleep, ignoring the insistent call her rude bedding. The bouncing increased, and a hand was added to the disturbing movement, punctuating each repetition of her name with a gentle shake to her shoulder. In retaliation, she rolled onto her side to bury her face in the warm softness of the pillow.  
  
Well, that was the plan, anyway. But it turned out her pillow, while warm, was not soft-it was, in fact, rather bony and...muscled?-and it smelled spicy. A familiar scent, but not one she associated with the floral aroma her shampoo left behind on her own bedding. Olfactory recall clicked into place.  
  
Inuyasha.  
  
As her sleep-fuddled mind pulled that memory forth and processed it, Kagome knew something was wrong with her bed. Inuyasha should not have been in it. Not unless they had both his the sake a little too hard. Slowly, resisting each millimeter, she lifted her eyelids to reluctantly take in her surroundings...and sighed in relief. Ahh, good. Then she frowned. Inuyasha wasn't in her bed; he was her bed.  
  
Bolting upright, the miko gasped in surprise at her location, finding herself waking in the hanyou's lap for the second time that night. Hot, betraying color rushed to her face, staining her cheeks with the force of her acute embarrassment. Oh, God. This simply was not her day. Night. Whatever.  
  
"Kagome...?" Inuyasha's voice, soft and uncertain, forced her to raise hesitant eyes to his face. She couldn't ignore the almost pained quality in his tone, though, and turned within his arms to meet his subdued amber gaze.  
  
The look on his face, stricken and almost panicked, as if uncertain she would look at him at all, tore at her heart. The memory of her vision came back to her in a searing rush of pain and blood, panic and breathless awe.  
  
That's right, she thought, Inuyasha said I transformed the Tessaiga, just like in my dream, and then my shoulder hurt...  
  
The thought trailed off as she remembered seeing the phantom stain of blood on her skin, fading before their very eyes to ghostly pale scars in the exact location of the injury sustained during her vision. Four long, evenly matched slash marks-a dream wound incurred by a dream Inuyasha. Not real. Right?  
  
Kagome lifted her hand to his face, gently brushing the wild silver tangle out of his eyes while bestowing a gentle smile upon him. She was trying to reassure him, wanting to erase the memory of the last words she had said to him before so unceremoniously flaking out.  
  
"You-you killed me, Inuyasha."  
  
The memory alone made her tremble in mingled fear and regret. How could she have said such a horrible, hurtful thing to him? It didn't soothe her conscious any to know that, in the alternate reality of her vision, it was 'true'. Those words, coupled together with the nature and placement of her mystifying wound, were about the only thing she was aware of that could reduce to rubble the emotional barriers of the proud, gruff man who held her so tenderly.  
  
"Inuyasha," she said quietly. It was more than his name; it was assurance that she was fine, as well as a plea for forgiveness of her thoughtless words, her callous reminder of the tragic circumstances of Kikyou's death.  
  
Kagome knew nothing would erase the burden of guilt Inuyasha had claimed, and no amount of arguing about Naraku's trickery being to blame would convince him to release it. The least she could do, though, was to avoid mention of it, and here she was, practically a living billboard advertisement of the event, right down to the scar her incarnate would have carried had she lived. Kagome stroked her hand over Inuyasha's cheek softly, absently noting the contrast between his lean, tanned skin and her pale fingers. It seemed to emphasize her human fragility, and how he always used his strength to protect her. Something twisted in her chest. It was a familiar feeling, though it had occurred less frequently over time.  
  
"Inuyasha," more of a question this time, "will you forgive me?"  
  
His head snapped around to stare at her, golden eyes wide with surprise and suspicious shine, mouth slightly open, though no words emerged. He blinked several times, rapidly, then released a strangled, choked sound that may have been her name, and wrapped his arms around her to haul her to his hard chest. The crushing embrace forced the breath uncomfortably from her lungs, but Kagome did not complain. As she had suspected, her accusation of 'murder' had rocked his emotional stability, and she was only too glad to give him what she could to help him regain that lost footing. Even if I have to suffocate for it, she thought with a touch of wry amusement, struggling a bit for breath.  
  
After a moment-too brief for her heart, too long for her protesting ribs- Inuyasha released his harsh hold, but did not seem inclined to let her go completely. That suited Kagome fine, so she settled herself more comfortably against him-or, as comfortable as one can get while half- reclining, half-sitting within the awkward embrace of a hanyou who did not possess an ounce of fat for padding.  
  
When she shifted for the third time in as many seconds, Inuyasha finally seemed to get the point and, huffing a little in an small, encouraging show of his normal attitude, pulled her upright to lean her side against his chest, one arm looped loosely around her back in case she should pass out again. Kagome noted, with a mixture of amusement and relief, her friend's slightly flushed face. It was a good sign that he was regaining his equilibrium if he displayed discomfort. Certain he would soon be 'keh'-ing and putting her from him in a fit of embarrassed pique, the miko settled in to enjoy the rare contact while she could.  
  
"Kagome-chan," came Sango's questioning, concerned voice. Now that the worst of Inuyasha's shock had worn off, the rest of the group felt safe to intrude again. Shippou hopped as close as he dared, uncharacteristically sensitive to the hanyou's proximity to his friend.  
  
"Kagome? Are you okay?" he asked, little voice trembling slightly in remembered fear. The vision of blood soaking her shirt, then fading away before she collapsed into Inuyasha's arms, playing on his worst nightmare that he would lose her and be left alone again.  
  
When the human girl reached out to bring the little kitsune to her for a reassuring hug, she felt tears sting the backs of her eyes at his trembling. Holding him close, fingers brushing through his bright hair, she made soft shushing noises of reassurance. Guilt stabbed at her anew for causing yet another of her friends undue grief. It seemed she was doing nothing tonight but reopening old wounds.  
  
"Kagome-sama," Miroku began, purpose in his calm tone, "perhaps you could tell us what happened?"  
  
Looking into the monk's earnest indigo gaze, she wavered. The group had enough to worry about as it was, should she really be adding to their troubles by relating some silly dream? Even if it did happen nightly. A glint of moonlight on metal caught her eye, and her gaze was drawn back to the Tessaiga, laying forgotten at her feet, still in its full fang form. She turned her face back to Inuyasha questioningly. Why hadn't he sheathed the sword? Had he been that worried about her? Kagome felt something simultaneously melt and harden in her heart: deep affection for the hanyou, and resolve that nothing would hurt her friend again, were it within her power.  
  
"Inuyasha, why don't you put Tessaiga away, and then I'll tell you about my dream," she suggested softly, already shifting to separate herself from his warmth. They deserved to know the whole of it, and mentally prepared the best way to go about telling them.  
  
At her movement, Inuyasha seemed to shake himself out of some reverie, an inner conversation she was afraid to know the topic of, and bent down to retrieve the fang, his long, strong fingers wrapping around the worn hilt. He lifted the blade and settled the tip against the opening of the scabbard, cutting edge up, prepared to slide it home...but nothing happened. That curious, mysterious bit of magic that allowed the massive demon blade to fit perfectly within the narrow confines of its protective shield did not activate. Grunting in surprise, Inuyasha slid completely out from underneath Kagome, standing to get more room as he flipped the blade through the ritual series of movements performed prior to sheathing a blade.  
  
Up. Down to the side. Up. Flip blade. Tip to the sheath...  
  
Nothing.  
  
Inuyasha's golden gaze swung to meet Kagome's dark one, both blank with shock. This was too horrible to imagine. It had to be a mistake.  
  
"Inuyasha," Kagome began. Her voice was reedy with apprehension and she had to lick suddenly dry lips before suggesting, "try it again."  
  
Again he swung the great fang through the deceptively simple movements with the grace and ease of long practice. Again, the magic refused to catch the blade and it remained transformed, too large to fit into the enchanted scabbard. A light of panic began to edge into Inuyasha's eyes, spurring him to try again...and again...and yet again...  
  
Slowly climbing to her feet, Kagome was so deeply confused by the sudden set of events-real and imagined-that had caught her up in a tangle of inexplicable circumstances, that she did not at first notice the warmth rising behind her breastbone. She had some half-formed thought of helping her friend in some way, though she did not know what she, as a mere human, could do to affect the great demon blade. It was while she was chafing at her frailties and limitations, watching helplessly as Inuyasha swung the sword with increasingly frantic movements, that her awareness finally telegraphed the pulsing sensation deep within her body to her less-than- observant brain.  
  
It was like someone flipped a switch, and knowledge, ancient and profound, flooded her mind, feeding her instinctual instructions. Acting without thought, not even fully realizing she had moved until she was suddenly pressed to Inuyasha's side, she reached out a hand to place it over his on the hilt of the fang. Tessaiga pulsed at the contact.  
  
Through a haze of interference from somewhere deep within her own mind, she watched, separate, yet completely within control of her own actions. Pulling on resources deep within herself, she played on the rising tide of holy power, calling to it, coaxing it forth, whipping it into a high crest, feeling it teeter on the brink...  
  
Concentrating on the tenuous link, forged between herself and the weapon during some unknown metaphysical communion, yet facilitated by simple physical contact, Kagome pulled one final time. The power cascaded down the line, pouring into the demon blade, soothing its aura and reversing the magics which had caused it to reveal its true form.  
  
The Tessaiga again appeared to be a rusted, broken blade.  
  
Lifting her hand slowly away from the hilt, Kagome opened her eyes, not knowing when she had closed them to begin with. Despite her closed lids, she still retained a clear visual memory of her hand over Inuyasha's, the glowing pink-white light around the blade as it shrank in on itself...how could she have seen all of that with her eyes shut?  
  
She felt herself wilt from the massive energy drain and raised her head wearily to look into Inuyasha's face, vaguely amused at his absolutely flabbergasted expression. The awestruck hanyou was standing before her, mouth agape, a beaten katana dangling limply at his side. He didn't even blink.  
  
Kagome's knees finally buckled, and she felt strong arms come around her, supporting her weary form. Looking to either side, she saw Sango and Miroku had dashed to catch her before she collapsed unceremoniously into an undignified heap.  
  
Smiling weakly at her friends in gratitude, she chuckled wryly and said, "I guess we should go see Kaede-baa-chan now, right?"  
  
They could do nothing more than nod their agreement. Inuyasha continued to stare, gawping like a fish on land, plainly struggling to say something, anything. She could see the questions crowding his mind, struggling for supremacy of importance. It was testament to his extreme shock that he did not immediately revert to yelling in an attempt to bandage his obviously wounded ego. After all, she, a mere girl, had managed what the great hanyou mysteriously could not. Once again, she had transformed the Tessaiga.  
  
Ah, well, she thought distantly, he'll start in on that later, I suppose.  
  
And then her eyes closed, her head dropping down as fatigue finally claimed her and she slid once more into an enforced slumber. Her last image was of Inuyasha, leaping forward to catch her while finally sliding Tessaiga home.  
  
Her last thought was the wild hope that she would not dream again.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: (Really long this time, so feel free to skip, but don't complain if you miss something!)  
  
Okay, a couple of things: I'm almost positive there is someone out there who is going to read my poor description of how to properly sheathe a katana. I once saw a friend of mine do it, but that was almost a decade ago, so it's been a while. (Please don't speculate on how old that makes me...it'll only depress me!) I'm also too busy (read: 'lazy') to research it, so if someone wants to tell me the proper jutsu, I'll be forever grateful!  
  
Also, before anyone questions my characterization of Inuyasha as possessing silver hair (as opposed to white), I am going off of the anime dialogue. Yura of the Hair admires Inuyasha's 'silver hair', and when Toutousai describes Sesshoumaru, he says his hair is 'masshiro', or pure white.  
  
Special thanks to all my reviewers, especially those of you who have given me support during the trauma of my first flames!(Kidoairaku, Lady Kaiba, RanmaGirl7) *sob sob* Yeah, I'm so broken up about it now. *insert sarcasm...here* Ah, the healing power of praise. So, Aki no Yume, erin and caley, your confusion about the roles the dream, the Shikon no Tama, and Naraku play will (hopefully) be answered in due course. If you're still confused, e-mail me and I'll try to explain. Oh! And about Kikyou not dying: do you keep up with a weekly or something? I'm going off of the latest tankoubon, but if you have new info...gimme, gimme, gimme!!!  
  
Mistress Fluffy, Fallen Angel of Death, Soudesuka Shurikens, Sierra, Sunflowerseed, Youkai Yume, spirit element, and Divine Discontent: You guys all rock! Thanks for the compliments on characterization, as I strain many, many braincells to get it right-except for Naraku. That was pretty easy, which kind of scares me.  
  
***** TT: Well, I was going to have a little dialogue right here, but it's shrunk into a monologue instead. I'll try to keep it from becoming a soliloquy. It appears Fluffy has made good on his threats and walked out. Yep, he's gone on strike! Something about protesting my 'non-utilization of this Sesshoumaru's bloodletting skills'-whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.  
  
TT's Muse: *pops in from alternate reality and whispers in TT's ear*  
  
TT: *looks surprised* Well, if that's all he's pissed about, why didn't he just say he wanted to kill something? I'm working on it for Chapter 7. Sheesh! It's so hard to find good help these days!  
  
Sess: *appears suddenly in TT's face* What did you just say, wench?  
  
TT: Sesshoumaru! Ehehe...I thought you were on strike? What are you doing back so soon?  
  
Sess: I heard you mention something about Chapter 7. *holds out hand demandingly* Let me see it.  
  
TT: See it? Well...the thing is...and then...ummm...why do you want to see it?  
  
Sess: *sighs impatiently* It specifically states in my contract that I get final approval of all my lines. So. Let me see Chapter 7.  
  
TT: .....  
  
Sess: You haven't written it yet, have you.  
  
TT: Ummm....I haven't exactly been in the mood...but it's in the outline!  
  
Sess: *grabs TT and flips her over his shoulder* Come with me. You are going to be 'in the mood' if it's the last thing you do.  
  
TT: *propping elbow on Sess's back as he walks offset to his trailer* You know, you keep doing things like this and I'm going to be 'in the mood' for something else entirely. *runs fingers through Sess's hair* Maybe you can be my muse, eh?  
  
Sess: ..... *drops TT on floor and continues walking*  
  
TT: *grumbles* Well, what did you expect when you go all animal on me? *scrambles to feet and chases Sess* Wait for me! I have a few good 'exercises' we can do to inspire my creativity! Sesshoumaru! 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Must I do this every time? *huffs* Fine. As Sesshoumaru insists on reminding me (repeatedly), I do not own him. He says "wishing does not make it so". Killjoy. Like he would know. Besides, I think I had my lawyers sneak a clause into his contract that should fix that...  
  
**review responses at the end** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Yume  
  
Previously:  
  
He ignored the tiny voice that whispered his feelings from the dream were not going to be that easy to push aside. Instead, he concentrated on the most likely candidates to pursue, and determined his first course of action. He knew just where to begin.  
  
Something close to a smile teased the corners of his stern mouth, and a predatory gleam kindled in his golden gaze. If Jaken had been present as witness, he would have run squawking in utter terror, certain of the apocalypse, for a low, rich, viciously amused sound was issuing from his master's pale throat.  
  
Sesshoumaru was laughing in anticipation.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
It was over within the space of a single heartbeat. The incandescent light faded just as quickly as it had been born, shrinking back in on itself-a collapsed supernova of holy energy returning to the womb from which it was created. An idea burst, fully formed and immensely exciting with the force of inspiring implications, across the dark landscape of Naraku's mind: someone had activated the full power of the Shikon no Tama-without it being complete. He didn't have to ask himself how he knew this to be true, for the proof was in what he had witnessed in the split second he had glimpsed the jewel prior to the wave of destructive force that had crashed against his youki shield.  
  
In that instant, the Shikon no Tama had been whole.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Routaro was quivering in fear, his already moist green skin dampened further with clammy beads of icy sweat. He had no doubts that, should the whim strike his cruel master, he would be cut down in an instant.  
  
With relief, he remembered that the information he brought should please the vicious demon. He hoped it would not be remembered that Shin, who had related his own failure to locate the final Shikon shard earlier that morning, was his former partner. Routaro did not want his now-deceased friend's dereliction of duty to reflect poorly upon himself, lest he suffer the same fate.  
  
The lowly demon shuddered as the sight of Shin's broken, bloody body rose in his memory. Sometimes it did not pay to have friends. He knew Shin would understand his own need to distance himself-it was a simple matter of survival around the dark demon they both served.  
  
"You have located the hanyou and his group?" The dangerously smooth tones slithered out of the shadows that seemed to drape around the silk-clad man seated casually on a raised dias.  
  
Routaro swallowed heavily before answering in the affirmative, "Hai, oyakata-sama. They left Inuyasha's Forest two days ago and are currently on their way to Toutousai the sword smith."  
  
"And do they have they located any more shards?" Naraku's voice took on a deadly edge and the shadowed form leaned infinitesimally forward. Tense anticipation radiated off the dark demon in waves, and Routaro knew that his answer could very well be the last words to pass his lips.  
  
"N-no, oyakata-sama, it did not a-appear so," his voice trembled in terror, imagining a tentacle hurtling toward him, seeking out his heart's blood and plunging into his chest to quench a dark thirst...  
  
After several minutes of heavy silence, Routaro shifted restively, wondering if he had pleased his cruel master, or if he was in imminent danger of finding his throat ripped out. When a few more agonizing moments dragged by and he had to consciously fight the urge to wipe his sweating brow, he began to believe his presence had been completely forgotten. Unable to retreat from the malignant presence of his lord, because he had not been dismissed, Routaro's mind began to relax and drift along, daring to believe he would survive this day. He almost jumped out of his amphibian skin, however, when that silky voice filtered out of the darkness again, voicing instructions to him.  
  
"Very good," Naraku's voice gained slight volume, "Kohaku. Kagura. To me."  
  
After barely a breath, the two presented themselves before their master, kneeling with every appearance of humility. Kagura's stiffly held spine, though, screamed her defiance, and her anger that she was powerless to indulge her hatred. The boy, Kohaku-his eyes were vacant, indicating any act of humility, real or feigned, was simply beyond his capacity. He was a puppet, blank and empty, and as such was unable to bestow or withhold loyalty. He simply existed-and served. "You two will be going on a little mission. Routaro here will lead you. I will, of course, provide enough...distractions...for even you to succeed," Kagura visibly bristled at his snide tone, but he continued on, ignoring the withering glare his detachment aimed his way.  
  
Over the next few minutes Naraku issued orders and outlined his objectives but, as always, withheld his reasons for the sudden mission. He had been uncharacteristically edgy these past two days, though none could safely speculate as to why. For the past six months Naraku had been content to patiently wait for information from his vast network of spies. Now he had abruptly instigated a flurry of activities, culminating in this battle plan. Judging by the force set to accompany them, Routaro felt it was safe to wager whatever the hanyou and his miko possessed, his own diabolical master was avid to steal away.  
  
"Hai, oyakata-sama," he acknowledged his dismissal and, touching his forehead to the floor, carefully backed out of the room. Naraku's favorite pets simply rose and followed him on his way out of the mansion.  
  
Once the group was beyond the barrier that hid his master from the world, Routaro sucked in a deep breath of blessedly miasma-free air, thankful he was still breathing at all. With what Naraku had planned for Inuyasha and his troop, Routaro felt almost sorry for them. At least he was only required to act as guide-no fighting for him, thank you very much. Ah, well, he thought, setting his feet back in the direction of the hanyou's group, better them than me.  
__________________________________________________________  
  
Now that his puppets had left, Naraku turned his thoughts once again to the single event that had precipitated his sudden resurgence into battle mode. That night, two days ago now, replayed before his mind's eye, and he sifted over the many implications.  
  
Raising his hand before him, he gazed once again at the skin of his palm, still slightly puckered from the scorching power of the inexplicably purified Shikon tucked safely within the loose folds of his haori. After his close brush with accidental purification, Naraku did not want to risk a repeat with the now unstable jewel, so kept his demon body out of direct contact with it.  
  
Since the Shikon had activated, Naraku had pondered why it had appeared, for that brief moment prior to its release of power, to be whole once again. The possible meaning of such a vision set his evil heart racing in anticipation. Someone had found the final piece, and the jewel had called out to all of its parts. It craved completion. He could almost taste the dark, twisted power of a wholly tainted Shikon no Tama.  
  
Beautiful.  
  
Frustratingly, though, the stone did not revert back to its dark, corrupted state. Once it had been so mysteriously purified, it had retained its unnaturally unsullied pink-white glow. Naraku grimaced in distaste, feeling the prickle of the Shikon no Tama's aura prodding at his black heart, trying to extend its purifying properties to him. Almost worse than his having his treasured bauble remain incomplete was seeing the current state it was in.  
  
Clean.  
  
However, very few circumstances could adequately explain why the large portion of the Shikon he carried with him, blackened by his wickedness since the first moment he touched it, had suddenly been rendered pure. The only viable explanation that came to mind was that someone had activated the full power of the jewel.  
  
He had thought so the other night as he watched, awestruck from behind the safety of his barrier, as the blinding white light flared out in a shockwave of pure destruction. Because the stone had been cleansed of his venomous taint, Naraku drew the obvious conclusion that the wielder of the power was not a demon. Logic dictated the next step in the argument was that someone in possession of holy powers of purification had to be the culprit. In other words, a miko. That left only Kikyou, his lovely, bitter beauty, whom he had unfortunately had to put out of her misery.  
  
Lucky for him, though, Kikyou had been thoughtful enough to leave behind a replacement in the form of her reincarnation. The little spitfire had thus far proved to be a bit more troublesome than her incarnate had been, but Naraku had confidence that once he got that bastard hanyou Inuyasha out of the way, the strangely delectable miko would be easy prey.  
  
His lips curved into a smile of delighted anticipation as the evil being ruminated on the knowledge that, at long last, he was only one step away from completing a quest fifty years in the making. Soon, the Shikon no Tama and all of its power would be his, and he would reshape the world to his own desires.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ __  
  
A week had passed since Sesshoumaru had awoken to find himself miraculously whole again.  
  
You would think that would put the one blessed in a good mood, Jaken thought sourly, but his master seemed even quicker to take offense than usual.  
  
The ugly little retainer huffed in indignation, rubbing the site of his most recent indignity. On the back of his bald, green head was a footprint, and if one were to compare it to the elegant footwear the Lord of the Western Lands was currently sporting, it would probably be a match.  
  
Jaken glared over his shoulder at the cause of his suffering, who remained oblivious, quietly walking behind Sesshoumaru, wide brown eyes taking in the surrounding forest-namely the wildflowers lining the path. All he had suggested was that the dirty little human should perhaps be left behind in one of the villages, to speed their progress, of course. His master did seem to view this new quest as somewhat more pressing than most other business (except Naraku), after all. And yet, without warning or explanation of what loyal old Jaken could have said to anger his noble master so, he found a noble foot firmly planted in the back of his head. To add to the humiliation, that little toadstool Rin had followed in Sesshoumaru-sama's footsteps-right over his frail, prone body.  
  
"Sesshoumaru-sama! Sesshoumaru-sama!" he called, scrambling so his little legs could keep pace with the long-limbed lord. "There appears to be a village ahead, Sesshoumaru-sama," he announced importantly, as if his master could not see the tiny hamlet, nested picturesquely among rice paddies in the near distance, smoke curling lazily from the roofs of the neat huts. A large red torii rose at one end of the village, weatherbeaten and standing silent sentinel at the base of a flight of high stone steps.  
  
"If it would please you, I will go ahead and make inquiries on your behalf." The youkai's huge yellow eyes shone with devotion, and if he had been in possession of a tail, it surely would have been wagging in the dust.  
  
Sesshoumaru stopped so abruptly that Rin bounced off the backs of his knees, but he did not so much as sway from the impact. Instead, he gazed dispassionately down at his over-eager servant, weighing the likelihood of Jaken's success at retrieving any useful information if left to his own devices. Seeming to sense his master's indecision, Jaken spoke quickly, his voice oily with unfeigned obsequiousness.  
  
"Sesshoumaru-sama, you should not lower yourself to speak with lowly villagers. I will ferret out the information you require." His little chest puffed up with confidence in his ability to retrieve what his noble lord so inexplicably desired: the current location of that filthy hanyou, Inuyasha.  
  
" 'Speak'," Sesshoumaru repeated dryly, one pale, slender brow raised, "I would not speak to these peasants to gain the information I require."  
  
Arrogance steeped the arid words and lent an edge of promised violence to them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rin shiver at the menace in his tone. Blast it, he thought, sighing inwardly, knowing he was going to back down to spare the tiny girl anxiety. He didn't say he was going to actually kill anyone, simply encourage a little...motivation.  
  
He nodded once, shortly, at Jaken, who hurriedly scuttled down the path to prove himself to his master. Before he could go far, though, Sesshoumaru's cold voice cut through the humid air like a knife, halting him in his steps.  
  
"Jaken," the name was spoken like a lash, "if you fail me, I'll feed you to A-Un...piece by slimy green piece."  
  
"Y-yes, Sesshoumaru-sama!" was the only reply the vassal gave-the only acceptable reply. He scurried impossibly faster, almost tripping in his haste to complete his task quickly and efficiently. The taiyoukai watched the bobbing of the Staff of Heads for a moment, until it disappeared at the base of the small rise he was standing on, though his acute senses could still track the toad's musty smell. Sesshoumaru turned his attention to Rin.  
  
Why did he allow this snotty, dirty child to travel with him, again? True, she never complained, and obeyed his every utterance to the letter. She foraged for her own food, or he had Jaken do so for her, and she had yet to fall ill. However, she was still undeniably human, and as such was subject to the particular squeamishness of her kind.  
  
She was also inarguably weak and he had found himself required to rescue her sorry skin on more than one occasion. Why he did so still eluded him, other than the obvious reason that she was his-he claimed rightful dominion over her the moment he swung Tenseiga and her heart resumed beating. She needed someone to protect her. If he, her master, didn't safeguard her, who would?  
  
Maybe that is your answer, taunted an impertinent voice.  
  
Bah! He retaliated. He was not required to explain himself to anyone-not even to himself.  
  
The girl had remained quiet during his inner dialogue, though she fidgeted slightly, patiently awaiting a cue from him. She gazed up at him with those huge, trusting eyes filled with adoration and something he preferred not to name. It was that same something he avoided thinking about upon waking from that damned aggravating dream. To acknowledge it would be to invite weakness, and to invite weakness was to court disaster. He had learned the harsh lessons of so-called 'love' early and well, and did not intend to repeat the mistakes of his sire.  
  
Besides, if he needed proof that love was a failing, all he had to do was point out his worthless half-breed brother's relationships with humans. Not once, but twice he had allowed the devious creatures near, and as a reward was constantly staving off attacks from his enemies. Naraku had killed the first female, who had then gone after her former lover's soul (a ringing endorsement for everlasting love, indeed). She then had always aimed for the living wench-the replacement.  
  
In a moment of brutal honesty, though, Sesshoumaru had to admit that, on those occasions when the strangely-dressed miko had been his target, she had always managed to escape him somehow.  
  
Sheer luck, he scoffed, but deep within himself, he suspected it was something other than simple good fortune that had saved her from his attacks. Something outside and above the meager abilities she normally displayed in battle. She had, after all, shattered his armor, drawn blood...and undone Tessaiga's transformation. Which was why he was currently pursuing her, methodically tracking rumors of Inuyasha's passing, hunting the woman most likely to be the one of power appearing by his increasingly detailed dreams.  
  
Sesshoumaru turned on his heel and began his progress back the way they had already traveled. About one quarter of a mile back, they had passed a good- sized field of flowers, the plucking of which should keep his ward occupied and-most importantly-quiet for some time. "Rin," he said, "come."  
  
And she did, her chubby little legs keeping pace with his shortened strides (though he would never admit to doing so), happy to be alone with her hero. She clucked her tongue to make certain A-Un followed, then raced off squealing when they arrived at the small clearing.  
  
Settling himself against the base of a tree, Sesshoumaru watched Rin dash madly from flower to flower, exclaiming at one's color and shape before bounding off to the inspect another that caught her eye on the other side. For several minutes, the taiyoukai followed her ricocheting progress from one side of the field to the other, a strangely buoyant calm settling over his heart at the sound of her tiny voice piping in joyous exclamation from time to time. He let her young, vibrant energy wash over his senses in the same manner the dappled sunlight washed over his skin, and he felt the tension of the last week ebb away.  
  
Almost against his will, though he could not seem to halt it, his mind turned to the reason for his unusual irritability. Contrary to his expectations, the month of repeating dreams had not ended the night his missing arm had been restored. Instead, it marked the beginning of a string of variegated repeats, with increasingly elaborate mutations on the original.  
  
Each dream began the same, but from the moment the woman appeared on the dream horizon, the events grew more involved and detailed, his senses taking in more impressions. Touches became more intimate and almost painfully electric (he now remembered vividly the smooth, silken texture of her skin as it glided across his); looks exchanged were longer and fraught with mysterious meaning (although he could read the intense heat in her dark eyes easily enough as desire).  
  
And he knew what was going to happen at the end. As much as he and the mysterious miko's increasingly familiar and (he shuddered to think it) tender interactions deviated from the original, Inuyasha's role never changed by so much as a twitch.  
  
At the end of every night, no matter how many times the bloody sequence had repeated itself, no matter that he knew he would gain no new answers from the vision, he could not stop himself from asking who she was. As if that were a cue, she would proceed with her 'information': ripping her own delicate flesh with his claw, showing him the Shikon jewel, then Inuyasha rising behind her, face blank and wooden, to deliver the death blow.  
  
Every night, he would howl his grief and rage to the stars, then wake up in a cold sweat, hands trembling slightly and breath coming in harsh gasps. Every night he would calm his racing heart and scoff at his own weakness, convincing himself that the emotions he felt during the dream were nothing more than phantoms; unreal and unwanted. Yet he found himself dreading the onset of night, having to talk himself into dozing, arguing against himself that no, he was not avoiding sleep to avoid the dream. He was not avoiding her. It was becoming more and more difficult to win the debate.  
  
And so he would waken each dawn, finding himself more irritable than the day before, each dream winding him tighter and tighter. His control, once so effortless, was strained to the limit. It was a wonder Jaken was still among the living. He told himself that the abominable effect the vision was having on his self-restraint, surely the work of some evil spell, was the only reason he felt such a burning need to locate the witch as soon as possible. She was interfering with his peace. She was interfering with his life. She was not interfering with his heart.  
  
While the coldly beautiful being readily admitted, at least to himself, that he did possess said organ, the arrogant taiyoukai scoffed at the notion that it was affecting his current judgement. He, Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands and son of the Great Demon Inutaisho, did not feel anything so mundane, so plebeian, as emotion for a weak, worthless human wench. A human wench from a dream, no less. He was not even certain she truly existed, though the evidence of his left arm suddenly being in existence seemed to provide proof of some sort of vast power at work.  
  
So he determined to find the miko whose power promised to allow him to wield the Tessaiga as soon as possible. He would end these aggravating dreams once and for all. Then, he was certain, his heart would be at peace once more, safe from emotional incursion behind his walls of iron control.  
  
Alone, a forlorn voice whispered regretfully.  
  
Safe, he shot back, though without the force of conviction he would have displayed a week ago.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sess: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ?!?  
  
TT: Now, calm down. It's called 'introspection'-helps illustrate the changes you're going through. Makes you appear more approachable. *grins slyly* More human.  
  
Sess: HUMAN ?!? *eyes turn red, scripts and props begin flying around the set in tempest of youki* I. AM. NOT. HUMAN !!!  
  
TT: Yes, yes, I can see that. Did you steal more chocolate from Shippou? *ducks as a villager goes whizzing past her head* Hey! Watch the extras! I gotta pay insurance on them, y'know.  
  
Sess: *growls and raises a green, glowing, clawed hand* You promised I could kill something soon...I think I'll start with you.  
  
TT: Eep! Chapter 7! Chapter 7! I swear! *streaks off set fast enough to impress Kouga*  
  
Sess: *reigns in youki and drops claws* Hah! I knew that would motivate her to keep writing. *smiles and slowly strolls back to his trailer* Reviewing helps motivate her, too, so you know what to do.  
  
{The 'set' gag-totally inspired by Striking Falcon. You should go check out her fics, S/K all the way. And FUNNY! "How to Train a Taiyoukai" Three words: Kagome. Sesshoumaru. Slave. If you don't read it, you're committing a crime against great S/K fics everywhere!}  
  
FF.net Reviews:  
  
Chillkat, VicFan, Tigress Moon, & Caley: Thanks as always for the support (and praise)! I love getting short little notes just letting me know people are reading!  
  
Shina-schatten: Thank you so much! Readers seem to be divided 50/50 on the opening dream: they either love it or hate it. *sigh* It's discouraging because the whole plot ties in to the dream (hint, hint). I wasn't trying to be so confusing there, but I get this really warm feeling when someone tells me they like it (even if they don't quite 'get it').  
  
Ranmagirl7: Oh no! Poor Inuyasha, whatever will he do without his oversized phallic symbol?!? Don't worry, I have (*ahem*) big plans for that little development! (Ah! I'm so bad! Bad puns! Bad puns!) And, you are now on my update list! Yay! Thanks for the love!  
  
Soudesuka-Shurikens: ROTFL...OMG! Narcolepsy (yes, I think that is the correct sp)! I about busted a rib when I read that. If Kagome is narcoleptic, then we know Sesshoumaru has Irritable Bowel Syndrome (you know, chronically constipated, even though we all love him that way), and what, Inuyasha is a necrophiliac? That would explain the whole Kikyou thing. Hmmm...what disease would excuse Miroku's wandering hands? Or Sango's fixation with that giant boomerang? You've given me a lot to think about...lol!  
  
Youkai Yume: Thanks for the love! He's here...I let you get your fix. Was it good for you? LOL Well, fear not, I've got...plans...for Fluffy. (He's not exactly pleased about them, but I'm here to please the readers, not his High-And-Mighty-Hotness.)  
  
Aki no Yume: Yikes! Still muddying the waters, am I? So sorry! I'm working on clarifying it, I SWEAR! I hope the AN at the beginning helped a little, and the next couple of chapters will bring more things to light (head's up: NEXT CHAPTER IS CRITICAL!!!). If I told you all my plans, who would bother reading this? LOL Really, though, Ch. 6 should explain a lot, and I welcome speculations-they inspire me! Thanks for the characterization appreciation!  
  
Kmf: Yeah, I was a I/K fan, too, until I read "A Means to an End". Then it was an almost about-face for me-satisfied that part of me which lusts after Sess, and if I can't have him, then the least I can do is live vicariously through Kagome and love it when she get him! (Yes, I'm sad.) But, yeah, I thought about following the really easy route and writing Inu completely out of the picture by developing a 'you hurt me so now I hate you' thing between Inu & Kag, but I just couldn't do it. I mean, yeah, Inuyasha is rude and immature and repressed and had serious ex-girlfriend issues, but he really is too warm and lovable and protective/possessive of Kagome to write off their relationship so easily. I think it's not quite in Kagome's nature to let him go so easily. As they age, though, she gains self-respect and Inu gains perspective, and their relationship develops into that deep bond of love we call true friendship. And I wanted to bring up the way Kikyou died as a device to sort of emphasize Inuyasha's continued devotion to Kikyou, a reminder of his choice-sort of clarify that the I/K relationship would not work as a romance because of it (in this fic, anyway).  
  
Gina (): Yeah, I know my style isn't for everyone (and I've got the flames to prove it), but I just can't stop myself from descriptive prose. I'm working on that, in this fic anyway, because it bogs down the action, but for the most part it's who I am. Hope the rest of the chapters keep you interested-I've got absolutely evil plans for Sesshoumaru! *grins and rubs hands together in anticipation*  
  
MM.org Reviews  
  
Lady Sesshoumaru: Do you believe it? How dare someone flame me? Me?!? *snorts* Yeah, it's a free country and well, it's not like I pay any attention to the bad opinions. Constructive criticism is great, even appreciated, but nothing beats all-out praise! *bows in humble gratitude* Like yours! I'm not worthy! Thank you! I hope I don't disappoint you in the future!  
  
Eqlipse-Moon: Hmmm...lemon, you say? Why I never thought of that! (Yeah, right!) I'm trying to work up to it...just a little more patience. My nerve isn't as steely when it comes to writing about sex (now, imagining sex is another kettle of fish...), and I tend to be shy about it. I mean, what if my husband reads it? *gasp of horror* He may get...ideas...! LOL  
  
adorable akane: Aren't they the best? *sighs dreamily* All that long hair...and the eyes and the fangs and the claws...urgh. I'm not sick, really!  
  
Tom: Thanks! I take it my formatting is fixed now? LOL Seriously, though. High praise indeed that someone isn't complaining about a slow-moving plot or cliffies (a fetish of mine)!  
  
Flambeau-Willow: *bows repeatedly* Thank you thank you! Yea! Someone else who recognises my *ahem* circuitous plot line as a deliberate, gradual building of facts/events-in other words, 'suspense'. Either that, or you've seen my outline for the story (which my muse wakes me up at 2 am nightly to add to) scattered over 20 pages. (Hey! At least it exists!) I hope the rest of the story holds up to your expectations! (No pressure. Really. *sweatdrops*) 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Inuyasha and gang owned by Takahashi-sensei in this reality. Sesshoumaru owned by me in an alternate reality. (Get the picture? I'm insane! BWAHAHAHAH!)  
  
** Going on vacation for a week, so don't count on posting...but I'll promise to try! **  
  
Yume  
  
Previously:  
  
He, Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands and son of the Great Demon Inutaisho, did not feel anything so mundane, so plebeian, as emotion for a weak, worthless human wench. A human wench from a dream, no less. He was not even certain she truly existed, though the evidence of his left arm suddenly being in existence seemed to provide proof of some sort of vast power at work.  
  
So he determined to find the miko whose power promised to allow him to wield the Tessaiga as soon as possible. He would end these aggravating dreams once and for all. Then, he was certain, his heart would be at peace once more, safe from emotional incursion behind his walls of iron control.  
  
Alone, a forlorn voice whispered regretfully.  
  
Safe, he shot back, though without the force of conviction he would have displayed a week ago.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 6  
  
After three days of hard traveling, the group had arrived back at the village in record time. Kagome was still exhausted, her face pale with deep shadows under her eyes, as if the enormous power she had drawn forth had somehow bruised the delicate skin with its force. Since that first night, Inuyasha had tested his ability to control the Tessaiga without issues. The unnerved hanyou had drawn the rusty old katana and it had smoothly transformed into the great fang without hesitation or mishap.  
  
No one in the group could think of what to make of it all, least of all Kagome, who had been unable to make a repeat performance-she was too drained to even try. She felt as if she had been hooked up to a giant Hoover and had her insides sucked completely out. Now she knew how a helium balloon felt after being deflated. Only without the resultant high, squeaky voice and fun.  
  
It was night again, and it was almost time for the new moon. They had spent two days already discussing the situation with Kaede, listening to her wise advice, and coming up with a plan.  
  
When they had arrived at the village, the aged miko had taken one look at Kagome, clinging tiredly to Inuyasha's back, and ushered them into her hut. After the hanyou had gently settled Kagome on the wooden floor and retreated to the other side of the cook fire, Kagome had proceeded to relate the bizarre series of events which had precipitated the group's early return to seek advice.  
  
She told the tale from start to finish, beginning with her month of dreaming and ending with the Tessaiga's mysterious reluctance, however briefly, to accept Inuyasha's mastery over it. Though loath to cause Inuyasha further emotional pain, Kagome did not leave any details out of the telling-not even how dream-Inuyasha 'killed' her in perfect mimicry of Kikyou's original death at Naraku's hands.  
  
No, the young miko did not spare detail, except for one: she could not bring herself to relate that she was certain Sesshoumaru had been one of the trio in the vision. For some odd, inexplicable reason, she could not bring herself to face the group if she admitted the hated brother of her best friend, the powerful taiyoukai who had tried to kill them numerous times, had made an appearance in her dreams.  
  
Actually, if Kagome were to be completely honest with herself, Sesshoumaru made more than just an 'appearance'; he made a deep, lasting impression. One so profound she was finding it much easier to deal with if she simply did not deal with it at all. Not the feeling of rightness she felt when she first spied him each night. Not the tingling surge of power that coursed through her body when her hand joined his on the hilt of the Tessaiga. And definiely not the burning need for...something...that swept her senses whenever they touched.  
  
Denial was a beautiful thing, especially when you found yourself on the receiving end of a mind-bogglingly bizarre chain of happenstance-and when viewed relatively to the rest of her life, that was saying quite a bit. And so Kagome instead skirted the truth and insisted she did not know who the other demon in the dream was, just that he looked almost identical to Inuyasha. The implication she let drop was that she perceived there to be two Inuyashas in the dream, but, though no one said anything, Kagome was not convinced she had side-tracked all suspicion. The possibilities were too obvious to everyone.  
  
After the recitation, Kaede had approached the young reincarnation of her sister and examined her closely. She had gazed for a particularly long time into Kagome's eyes, seeming to search the warm, chocolate depths for something, grunting occasionally. Then she had turned to Inuyasha, abruptly demanding to see Tessaiga. As the uncharacteristically silent hanyou held it out, she perused it at thoroughly as she had Kagome, never touching the cracked leather hilt or wooden scabbard. When she wanted to see the blade, Inuyasha moved to draw, but the old woman stopped him, instead asking Kagome to bare the metal to her scrutiny. The blade pulsed in her hand, but did not transform.  
  
Humming and humphing some more, she finally settled back on her heels, gaze swiveling between miko and katana for a moment before coming to rest on the hanyou, who was by now twitching with impatience.  
  
"Kaede-baa-chan?" Kagome questioned, unable to judge from the aged face if she had discovered anything. At the old miko's continued silence, though, Inuyasha's limited supply of forbearance evaporated and he snapped out, "Out with it, old hag! Did you find anything or not?"  
  
Kaede sighed in resignation, too used to the hanyou's rude behavior to pay it much heed, and settled herself to speak.  
  
"I do not know exactly why you, Inuyasha, were not able to undo Tessaiga's transformation," she paused and turned to look significantly at Kagome. "However, I do have a suspicion why you were able to briefly control the demon blade."  
  
Assuring herself everyone's undivided attention was firmly fixed on her next words, Kaede reached out to lift the glass vial of Shikon shards around Kagome's neck.  
  
"This is the most likely reason the sword is behaving as it is," she declared. A heavy silence descended as the meaning took time to sink in.  
  
Kagome brought her own hand up to cup the smooth contours of the glass, watching with detached wonder as the shards, that should have been innocently sparkling in the late afternoon light, were softly glowing instead. How long have they been doing that, Kagome wondered to herself. In her fatigue and the mad dash to get Kaede's advice she had failed to notice the phenomenon.  
  
"I'd wager they have been glowing since the night of your last dream, if not before," the wise woman said, seeming to read the confused young woman's mind.  
  
"But why, Kaede-sama?" Miroku asked.  
  
"You don't think this is some trick of Naraku's, do you?" Sango inserted before the old miko could explain.  
  
"I'm not certain, Sango," was the reply. Kaede shook her head briefly to display that uncertainty, then addressed the monk's question, "but I am almost positive the Shikon no Tama has something to do with it."  
  
"Please, Kaede-baa-chan, tell us what you're thinking," Kagome implored, the tension of not knowing, not even having the tiniest clue what was happening inside her own mind and body tearing at her.  
  
Kaede locked her warm, one-eyed gaze on the beautiful young woman from the future, and inwardly thought how awful it was that she would have her burdens added to. Kagome was such an open, warm person-the person she thought Kikyou would have been had she lived-and she deserved relief from the trials of her life. The most she could do, however, was explain the probable situation to the best of her ability and help out where she could.  
  
"The Shikon no Tama seems to be forging a bond between itself and the Tessaiga," she began, and waited for the firestorm that is Inuyasha's temper to break over their heads. As predicted, "What the hell is that supposed to mean, old hag? Explain yourself!" was what emerged from his mouth.  
  
"I am trying to, Inuyasha, so if you will hold your questions and comments until I am finished...," at his grudging nod, she continued, "as I said, the Shikon no Tama and the Tessaiga seem to be forging a bond.  
  
"Kagome has become a conduit between the jewel and the sword, as she is the only one to have a direct connection to both objects. Since the Shikon was shattered, it has been trying to repair itself-to repair itself it needs power, and the closest source of power to the shards you carry is the Tessaiga.  
  
"You may ask 'how it is siphoning power off the sword?' and I would instead ask you this: Who was the one who broke the barrier and puled the blade from its resting place?"  
  
Every eye turned to fix upon Kagome, whose own eyes had widened at the implications. She was afraid to meet Inuyasha's gaze, certain she would see anger, and possibly hurt, in their golden depths. Luckily, she was saved from that scrutiny when Kaede continued.  
  
"Kagome is the protector of the Shikon no Tama-it was embedded in her body, which has no doubt absorbed some of the power-so she has a link to the jewel. She was the first to release the Tessaiga-broke the barrier neither Inuyasha nor Sesshoumaru could-so she has a link to the Fang of Inutaisho. Kagome is the medium between these two sources of power, and it has allowed her a level of control over both that will only increase in time, I think.  
  
"The closer the Shikon gets to completion, the more it will strain to hasten that process. The more it strives, the more energy it will require to call out to the pieces of itself. The more energy required, the more it will draw from Kagome and the Tessaiga. Perhaps you have been tiring more easily than usual, Kagome?" Kaede queried the miko.  
  
At Kagome's affirmative, Kaede turned to face Inuyasha with an expression of utmost gravity. The hanyou's own face appeared beyond shock, but his eyes were gimlet-bright and glittering, taking in every word that passed the old woman's lips with intense concentration.  
  
"Inuyasha, this also means that the longer the Shikon remains incomplete, the more energy will be depleted from Kagome-and from the sword. As Tessaiga weakens," Kaede paused. A pained look of uncertainty crossed her weathered features before she seemed to gather strength and continued, "you will begin to lose control over it."  
  
Kagome gasped at that, thinking how much more difficult it would be to battle shard-powered youkai without the benefit of the Kaze no Kizu and Bakuryuuha. She had utmost faith in Inuyasha's natural abilities as a fighter, but the search would go that much faster with those weapons at their disposal...and if what Kaede said was true, then speed was of the essence.  
  
"What you're saying is that I won't be able to use my attacks," Inuyasha said slowly, as if just beginning to comprehend the level to which he would be reduced during a fight, and what it would mean if they faced Naraku before fixing the problem.  
  
Kaede nodded her head in agreement, and the hanyou seemed to deflate. Miroku raised his hand a bit to catch the wise woman's attention.  
  
"Kaede-sama," he began in a soft, hesitant voice, "if Inuyasha loses his control-his connection-to the Tessaiga, doesn't that mean the seal on his youkai blood will be affected, as well?"  
  
Absolute silence descended on the interior of the tiny hut. No one breathed in the oppressive air that suddenly seemed to congeal into a great mass of stale, stagnant fear. Miroku's words hit the silent void and rippled out in tiny waves of alarm as everyone within imagined the horror that would befall the hanyou if he were deprived of the seal restraining his immensely powerful pure-youkai blood.  
  
Full-youkai transformation. Uncontrolled bloodlust. Madness.  
  
Inuyasha would turn on anyone, driven to insanity by the raging force of his father's potent blood, unable to recognize the difference between friend or foe.  
  
Kagome whimpered in fear and guilt. This was her fault. If she had not brought the Shikon no Tama to this era, if she had not shattered the jewel, if she had not pulled the Tessaiga...And now, she could be the cause of her best friend's descent into madness. They may have to destroy him just to save the innocent populace.  
  
No! It would not happen-she would not let it!  
  
Bolting to her feet, Kagome dashed out the door and toward the forest, tears already running down her cheeks. She needed solitude to come to terms with her role in this colossal catastrophe, no matter how unwitting is was. She needed to clear her mind and think of where to go from here.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _  
  
It was generally agreed ('generally', because Inuyasha most definitely-and vociferously-did not agree) that this was a problem that they could not afford to ignore. Inuyasha argued that, since he had not encountered any problems since, that they continue on their shard search and deal with any issues as they arrived. The faster they completed the Shikon, the faster it would release its hold on the fang's power, right? The hot-headed hanyou felt that Kagome's wielding of the Tessaiga had been a fluke, anyway, not likely to be repeated, but if he did go mad, he said, he'd just leave them.  
  
The rest of the group and Kaede felt they could not afford to take the risk that something would go wrong at the worst possible moment-say, in battle with Naraku. As Miroku so calmly pointed out, without Inuyasha's skills with Tessaiga, their little band would be decimated without the evil mastermind having to break much of a sweat. It was even a very real possibility that Naraku had something to do with this whole situation in the first place. A new plan to break them, maybe.  
  
Kagome felt that this was the only argument that seemed to have any sort of impact on Inuyasha's staunch refusal to pause in their quest for the Shikon shards, and his absolute denial that he might go insane and slaughter them all. So they left the next morning to find Toutousai.  
  
The wizened old youkai was the maker of both the Tessaiga and Sesshoumaru's Tenseiga, so was the being most likely to have the clearest insight into the difficulty-how it had happened, and how to counteract its effects- besides Kaede. They were hoping he would have a viable alterative method to sealing Inuyasha's youkai blood, as well.  
  
They had been traveling to Toutousai's volcanic home for three days now, and each day seemed to sap more energy from her than the last. Kagome fell asleep as soon as they settled down to camp, praying to any gods who would listen to help keep Inuyasha safe and sane while they figured out how to solve their predicament before it degenerated into an unrivaled catastrophe.  
  
As soon as her eyes closed, it seemed, the young miko found herself back in the dream. She experienced it nightly still, but it was different now, changed. Kagome noted the discrepancies, though increasing in frequency, were subtle and did not affect the actual events of the vision, only her perceptions.  
  
For starters, she began the dream in the woman's body, not as a protoplasmic cloud hovering over the scene until she got her cue to go on stage, as it were. Instead of perceiving all through a dreamy haze, now her senses were immediately and vividly attuned to her surroundings-and to the man facing her.  
  
Tall and powerful and impossibly beautiful, he seemed to glow in the weak moonlight filtering through the bare branches of the surrounding forest. He seemed supremely untouchable in his pristine whiteness: white hair, white skin, white clothing. Only the splashes of night-greyed red decorating his shoulder and sleeves seemed to award him any color.  
  
That, and his molten gold gaze, burning like twin embers in the misty night, piercing her soul with their intensity and hunger. Those topaz irises seared through her soul, just as the feel of his skin heated her heart.  
  
God! What was she thinking? This was Sesshoumaru! Oh, yes, she was very much cognizant of exactly who this being with the seductive, predatory nature was, and it only served to heighten her awareness of him as a virile male.  
  
No! Her mind screamed at her to run, retreat, but as ever, she was locked within the sequence of the dream, unable to deviate her course. Maybe even unwilling to. Always after waking, Kagome would puzzle at the incongruous flickers of emotion she surprized on his handsome visage and rising in his eyes. She could almost name things like 'tenderness', 'longing', 'regret', and at the very end, 'loss'. Powerless to deny her own answering feelings, she was confused by the tangle of intense sentiment the two of them created on the dream plane. It was almost as if they were forming an emotional bond.  
  
Kagome did not know what was happening to the vision, nor how or why she and Sesshoumaru were somehow able to deviate from the previously set pattern (though she noted that Inuyasha's role never changed). The miko marked that the basic steps were all there: greet Sesshoumaru, lead him to the clearing, perform time warp, bonding ceremony, transform fang, Shikon show-and-tell...then die at Inuyasha's hand. The only thing missing was the healing of the taiyoukai.  
  
That singular difference stood out, as it was an event unique to the night she had actually transformed Tessaiga in reality. She didn't have to wonder at its meaning, though, for the answer was readily apparent in Sesshoumaru's now-changed appearance in her dream: In all visions subsequent to that night, he possessed both upper limbs.  
  
She had no doubts it was his own flesh-not a replacement-because the night before she had run dream hands under the collar of his haori, an almost desperate need to feel the texture of his bare skin tearing at her insides with sharp talons of desire. The great youkai lord had helped her remove his armor and eased the thick silk garment off his shoulders. She had sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of him revealed.  
  
Standing in the moonlight, the pale rays creating interesting shadows against the planes and hollows of his torso, he had appeared sculpted of marble; a work of art. There were no scars or blemishes, no shifts in skin tone to suggest every inch of flesh displayed before her hungry eyes was not his own. She had trailed questing fingers lightly over his smooth skin, expecting to feel the coolness his image suggested, but was shocked to find him hot to the touch. Was he burning as she was?  
  
She had awoken from that dream breathing raggedly and drenched in sweat, but instead of the usual wash of cold she felt upon waking from the perception of her own 'death', she had been on fire, the splashes of blood overlaid by images of a silent, silver-gilt god with glowing golden eyes and firm lips...  
  
Kagome was too ashamed of the obviously sensual, and sometimes downright erotic, nature of the dreams to confide it to anyone. As far the Inuyasha and the rest of her friends knew, her visions had ceased that night a week ago when the Shikon no Tama had drawn power off the sword through her for the first time. She felt a little twinge of guilt for her lie by omission, but she consoled herself by promising that, should anything change in the dream (other than the sexual-fantasy thing), then she would tell them immediately.  
  
Besides, she shuddered to think what they would say if she told them she feared she may be, in the smallest, most minuscule of ways, falling for the taiyoukai of her dreams.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alright, there you have it. At least someone is beginning to admit to romantic feelings. Sheesh. Sess still has a stick up his @$$ about it, though (more like a 4 x 4, but what did we really expect from His Royal Uptightness?). Then again, I'm the author here, so *rubs hands together gleefully* I get to screw with Sess's inhibitions! Yay!  
  
I was supposed to have a dialogue with Sess, but he is in his trailer pouting. Said he won't come out until after he has slaughtered something. Guess he doesn't want to be put in jail for serial killing...imagine all the trouble he would have, him being as beautiful as he is. *snicker* Bad- boy bishies...what can ya do? So, Kagome was kind enough to say a few words before the review responses. Take it away, girl.  
  
Kagome: Well...all I wanted to say was...*kicks toe in dirt, looks embarrassed* ahem...all I wanted to say was...  
  
TT: *rolls eyes* Spit it out, girl! Where's your backbone?!  
  
Kagome: *scratches head* Well, thank you all for the support and encouragement...with-with Sesshoumaru, y'know...I mean, I love Inuyasha but...*sighs dreamily* something about older brothers...  
  
TT: *pushes Kagome offset* Yeah, yeah. If that's all you've got to say, then save it. We've heard it all before (coming from our own lips). Go find Sess and practice your next scene before you lose all that hot-and-bothered energy.  
  
Kagome: *claps hands together and dashes off with big smile*  
  
TT: God, I thought she'd gained some self-respect. Oh, well. At least this will torment Sess some more! *grins evilly, then smile fades* But I wish I was the one running the scene with him. *pouts, then perks up* But I could be her body double! Yeah! Ooh, the possibilities! And if that wasn't enough of a hint on upcoming events, you need help!  
  
FF.net Reviews  
  
Vampireluv, kasey, ChibiBakaKitsune, Dark Topaz, Nymph Demon, and Mistress Fluffy, thanks for all the support! I love those words of praise!  
  
Unknown: Thank you so much for the compliment on my style. I know I can get wordy. I am working on more dialogue, so I hope you approve! Trying to strike a balance here, not as easy as I thought. Let me know what you think in upcoming chappies, okay?  
  
VicFan: Well, if I tell you, why would you read it? LOL Let's just say, I've got plans for the puppy...BWAHAHAHA!  
  
Flambeau-Willow: *sniffs, wipes eye* Thank you for the praise! I'm touched!  
  
Ranmagirl7: *bows humbly* Doumo arigatou gozaimasu! That first chapter has been festering in my brain-I've even thought about trying to revamp the first few chapters. Yikes! But, I decided to wait on that, as I seem to have quite a few lovely, lovely readers (like you!) who are able to follow my Mexican jumping bean plot. *whispers* I'm kinda proud of the dream sequence, myself. *cringes at immodesty, then shrugs* Otherwise I wouldn't have posted it!  
  
The Fallen Angel of Death: *ducks and covers head* No! I promise I'll update as quickly as possible! No scythes, reapers, blades, spoons, etc.! I'll tell you the same thing I told Sess: You kill me, I can't write any more of the story! But, thanks for the (sadistic) love! My first death threat! LOL (Is it wrong to revel in that?)  
  
Youkai Yume: Yes, I get antsy if I don't have Sess involved in the story for too long...something about sexual frustration... Not that he'd help me out there, but I'm working on it! LOL  
  
kidoairaku: Wai! Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! I'm the highlight of your day? *sighs in bliss, bows humbly* This unworthy one does not deserve such unmitigated praise. (Hey! When did Kenshin get in here?) Keep up your fics-I'm transfixed!  
  
Soudesuka-Shurikens: Ha! "Masochism" indeed-that fits Miroku to a Tee! If Sango has a boomerang fetish (surely a size issue of some sort), then I hope our favorite playboy monk can measure up! Let's see...next would be Shippou. Hmmm. Definite 'mother complex'. And Naraku! What's with all those detachments? And the absorbing youkai thing? And the necrophilia? And the...ahhh, the list is endless! A shrink would have a hey day with him! LOL  
  
SesshouMaru's Lover: *bows in humble gratitude* Thank you so much! If you think my writing's decent, you should check out writers like kidoairaku, profiler120, Sailor Panda, Quick Silver...too many to name. Oh! Volpa! "This Mess We're In" is awesome! She needs to update faster, though! Thanks again!  
  
Godless infidel: Here's your update! And, you won't have to wait that long for 'The Meeting'. I've got plans for our favorite bishie brothers! BWAHAHAHA! Ahem. Sorry about the evil laugh thing. Anyway...I'm on your favorites list? *dances in joy* Thank you! *hugs* I'll try not to disappoint!  
  
Aki no Yume1: Poor Jaken! Ah, the life of a freakishly devoted servant. *sigh* If only Sess would deal with his emotional baggage, life would be so much better for him, ne? And about Inu finding out about Tessaiga...can you just imagine the freak-out? LOL Then again, maybe I won't let him find out until the last minute...hmmm...to be evil, or not to be evil? LOL  
  
MM.org Reviews  
  
Lady Sesshoumaru: *gasp* Love? LOVE?! Why, the very idea that the tall, godly, noble dog-man would so much as feel...well, anything at all! *snickers* Yeah, right. Not if I have anything to say about it! (And, much to Sess's dismay/anger/fury, I DO! It's in his contract, baby!) 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, Miroku, Sesshoumaru *sob*, or even Naraku. But when I win the lottery, I'll be making Takahashi-sensei an offer she can't refuse. Be nice to me, and I may let you have a turn!  
  
AN: I will be short and sweet, because you all have been waiting so patiently for this chapter. All I have to say is this: I'm terribly, terribly sorry for the long, loooonnnnggg wait, and I hope this makes it up to you. I poured blood, sweat and tears into this chapter, ignored my bills, barked at my rambunctious children, and denied my husband his...well, husbandly rights over this chapter. I am wrung out after this, so I hope it survives your scrutiny. Please tell me what you think! Review me! (P.S.: I will post this on MM.org...just as soon as the site is back up, that is!) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Previously:  
  
"The Shikon no Tama seems to be forging a bond between itself and the Tessaiga," Kaede began  
  
"Kagome has become a conduit between the jewel and the sword, as she is the only one to have a direct connection to both objects. Since the Shikon was shattered, it has been trying to repair itself-to repair itself it needs power, and the closest source of power to the shards you carry is the Tetsusaiga."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Sunlight filtered hazily through the canopy of leaves, spangling the forest floor with spots of buttery heat. Moisture hung heavily in the stillness of the midday air, and not even the barest hint of a breeze stirred to cool their bodies.  
  
They had awoken early in the morning, none of them truly rested. They had all been too edgy with the knowledge that, the next day, they would reach the home of Toutousai, to sleep in more than fitful dozes. If he was home, the sometimes wise, sometimes senile old sword smith could either shed a new light on the difficulties with Tessaiga...or confirm Kaede's theories. No one was certain they wanted the aged miko's ideas refuted. Too many unpleasant alternatives existed, and as they say, 'better the devil you know'.  
  
Breaking camp after a hasty breakfast, the group had quickly traversed the remaining distance to the volcano which housed the wizened old youkai. Their luck (what little remained of it) was with them, for he was in, starting when Inuyasha's shadow had fallen across the floor of the cave.  
  
After a few standard insults and false starts from Inuyasha, Miroku had elected himself spokesperson for the group, cutting of the rest of the hanyou's 'hello' harangue. The group quickly settled down onto the welcome chill of the stone floor, ranged in front of Toutousai in a semi-circle. The old man sat cross-legged on his huge stone anvil, elevated like a lord's dais, and silently listened to the monk's recitation of recent, troubling events.  
  
When all had fallen silent for some minutes, the group began to shift restlessly. Kagome wondered if the sword smith had perhaps fallen asleep. She about jumped out of her skin when Toutousai's gravely voice rolled into the stillness of the air.  
  
"Hnnnn," he began, white head bowed in concentration and arms crossed over his sunken chest, "I think your Kaede-dono is right."  
  
Kagome felt her shoulders slump at Toutousai's agreement that the Shikon no Tama was the most likely cause of Inuyasha's difficulty controlling the fang's transformation. Beside her, Inuyasha released his fear and anxiety via an explosion of curses. Kagome's feelings of guilt increased.  
  
"However, while Kagome is the connection between the Shikon no Tama and the Tessaiga, I don't think the sword is the only thing being drained of power," Toutousai stated.  
  
"What do you mean?" Sango asked.  
  
"Well, I think that, since the Tessaiga has been brought into the bond by Kagome's connection to the Shikon, everyone who has a link to the fang now has a link to the Shikon's power drain."  
  
As the implication sank in, Kagome felt her eyes go wide with horror.  
  
"You mean it's not just Tessaiga that is being drained of power, but Inuyasha as well?" the miko questioned, voice quavering slightly in apprehension. Toutousai nodded in confirmation.  
  
"But, the two of you are not the only ones with a connection to the Tessaiga," he continued, voice heavy with portent.  
  
Oh, God, Kagome thought, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, don't say it...please don't say it..., she pleaded silently, but knew it was coming anyway. After all, Murphy's Law made it a requirement.  
  
"Who the hell else would have a connection to my sword?" Inuyasha demanded harshly, oblivious to Kagome's growing distress-and the obvious.  
  
"Use your head, boy!" Toutousai snapped, swinging his hammer onto Inuyasha's unprotected head, "Who else do you think would be connected to your father's fang?"  
  
Inuyasha's eyes showed continued confusion before Kagome whimpered slightly. Visions of an achingly beautiful demon, bathed in moonlight, topaz eyes intense with emotion rising in her mind.  
  
"Sesshoumaru," she whispered, not hearing the longing etched into the thread of sound as it hung in the air.  
  
Inuyasha's head snapped around to stare at his miko in profound surprise before another string of curses spilled into the lull, colored by anger and loathing for his half-brother.  
  
"Well, at least if we run across him, we know he's probably being drained of energy, too," Sango said, trying to point out a positive. "It should make it easier to defeat him." Kagome staunchly ignored the painful squeeze her heart gave at the thought of Sesshoumaru injured-or dead!-at the hands of one of her friends. Actually, just the idea of him lying broken and bloodied caused her stomach to roil in sickness. It didn't matter that he would probably instigate violence.  
  
With great effort, Kagome set these thoughts firmly from her mind. She would deal with them later. On to more pressing, and personally dangerous, matters.  
  
"Ojii-san," Kagome's voice, tight with worry, broke through a particularly blue string of oaths (yes, Inuyasha was still swearing), "I've been meaning to ask. Is there another way to seal Inuyasha's demon blood while we search for the last Shikon shard?"  
  
Toutousai's wrinkled brow knotted in thought, then he tilted his head back, pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling dripping with stalactites. "There are only three ways I know of to seal Inutaisho's blood within Inuyasha's body-besides death," the old youkai tipped his gaze back down to the still-fuming hanyou, a look of almost amusement lighting his eyes.  
  
He's almost enjoying this, thought Kagome indignantly, though she had to admit to herself Inuyasha didn't show the proper respect to his father's old friend, so perhaps Toutousai was entitled to a little fun watching the young man squirm. It would be funnier if we didn't have Naraku complicating matters by breathing down out necks, though.  
  
"Well?" Inuyasha flared, fangs bared in frustration, "What are these ways? Tell us, old man!"  
  
"No way, rude pup!" Toutousai huffed out, turning his head to the side and sticking his crooked nose in he air. He looked like a two-year-old refusing to eat his vegetables, not a demon who had probably seen well over four hundred years go by.  
  
As Inuyasha lunged to his feet, twisting a clawed fist into the sword smith's collar, Kagome decided it was time to separate the children. She sighed in exasperation. When had her life regressed into that of a referee?  
  
"Inuyasha," she said tiredly, suddenly weary of her friend's temper tantrums, "sit."  
  
The young miko sighed in relief as Inuyasha's face was pulled down to meet the floor, releasing Toutousai from the hanyou's harsh grasp. Kagome's ears, however, burned with the force of vitriol spewing from her volatile friend's mouth.  
  
Where did he learn those words? she thought with some wonder, eyes wide with Inuyasha's sudden and amazing creativity. She shook herself, But back to business.  
  
"Ojii-san, can you please tell us what you know about sealing Inuyasha's blood?" she pleaded.  
  
After a moment more of pouting (and one hard toe to the back of said hanyou's head), Toutousai returned his attention to the group. A rare, serious expression settled onto his wrinkled face.  
  
"Well, there is the obvious method he has used up until now: the Tessaiga's seal. However, there are two other methods," he paused here, seeming to gauge his audience's reaction to what he would say next.  
  
"The second method is to use sealing scrolls, but the complex magic required is difficult, and the ofuda would not last long before their magic was exhausted." Miroku was nodding his head in agreement.  
  
"But houshi-sama, you could do it, if it became necessary?" Sango had turned to face Miroku, a look of hope in her eyes.  
  
Never one to miss an opportunity, Miroku took both of Sango's hands in one of his and gazed deeply into her startled brown eyes. Radiating smooth polish, the holy man said, "Why, Sango, your faith in me is touching indeed."  
  
The lovely demon exterminator's expression fell into familiar lines of exasperated boredom, reflecting her inner thoughts of 'I should have guessed'.  
  
"Houshi-sama?" Sango said sweetly, eyes closed and a small smile on her lips. One dark eyebrow began to twitch, and Kagome wondered anew how Miroku never stopped at that tell-tale sign of her best friend's ire.  
  
"Yes, my lovely?"  
  
"If your hand goes any farther south, my faith is not going to be the only thing touching you," she warned with saccharine, but deadly, intent.  
  
Like the love-struck fool he is, Kagome watched as Miroku's indigo eyes lit up with wicked purpose. His mouth opened to deliver some no doubt highly suggestive retort when a fist crashed down onto the back of the hapless monk's head. Startled, Sango looked up to see Inuyasha, who had finally peeled himself off the cave floor, towering over the twitching man.  
  
"Quit flappin' your jaw, bouzu, and maybe we can hear the rest of what Toutousai has to say," was the only explanation Inuyasha gave for his quite uncharacteristic defense of Sango's virtue. If he was defending Sango's virtue, that is. It remained a matter entirely up to debate as the half- demon plowed on. "Well? What the hell is everyone staring at? Hurry up and finish, old man!"  
  
This last was addressed to the old youkai, who hastily cleared his throat and goggled the group, a look of utter confusion on his face.  
  
"What was I saying?" he asked, scratching his head. Inuyasha added a lump to it, muttering about 'this should jog your memory, you senile old goat'. It did indeed seem to snap his memory back into place, for he resumed his list without hesitation.  
  
"Ah! The third method," there appeared an almost diabolical gleam in the old demon's protuberant round eyes. "I understand you have already fallen victim to the third method, Inuyasha." He cackled gleefully while everyone glanced at each other nervously.  
  
The same thought went through all present, 'victim'? That did not sound good.  
  
"What do you mean he's already had it used on him?" Kagome voiced the question for all.  
  
Toutousai remained silent for several heartbeats, drawing out the tension and the torment-purposefully, no doubt. When it appeared Inuyasha was about to explode, Toutousai croaked out three devastating words.  
  
"A miko's arrow."  
  
The silence was absolute, broken only by the steady drip of water from timeless limestone formations. All eyes swung from Kagome to Inuyasha, who had a glazed look on his face. Slowly, his brows lowered into a scowl and Kagome could hear a deep growl resonating in his chest.  
  
"No," he bit out shortly, shaking his head in adamant denial, "no way in hell am I getting my ass pinned to that damned tree-again!" He fixed his intense golden gaze on Kagome, emotions running so quickly through their depths she couldn't catch more than a hint, "And no way in hell am I making you do it." With that declaration, issued with an emotion-roughened voice, Inuyasha stalked out of the cave.  
  
It would be like Kikyou all over again, Kagome understood the unspoken words-and the pain. No, this would be a last resort. In the meantime, Miroku could prepare his ofuda...just in case.  
  
The group said their thanks and goodbyes to Toutousai and followed Inuyasha back into the forest.  
  
Kagome sighed for perhaps the fourth time in ten minutes, absently pulling her collar away from her body in a repeatedly, hoping to create a breeze with the fanning motion. It didn't work very well, and the added exertion only caused another bead of perspiration to roll uncomfortably between her breasts.  
  
She barely resisted the urge to yank the stifling tee shirt off over her head and away from her sticky skin, but restrained herself. Oddly, it wasn't the thought of Inuyasha's likely apoplexy should she give in to the almost overwhelming desire to cool her overheated body, nor even fear of Miroku's perverse habits which halted her hand.  
  
No, it was the memory of him, and the knowledge that, if she felt the sultry heat of the day wafting over her bare skin, it would bring too many reminders of the way his hot breath had fanned her to the pinnacle of desire...last night.  
  
Sighing once more, Kagome allowed her heat-drugged mind to sink into remembrance of the previous night's dream. In her preoccupation, she failed to notice how eerily silent the surrounding forest was.  
  
* * *  
  
The dream began in the same pattern as those of all that came before, with her greeting the Lord of the Western Lands. Tonight however, she did not turn away from his beautiful, stoic form to lead him into the forest-and Tetsusaiga. Instead she stood, rooted to the spot by the slumberous intensity of his golden eyes, feeling a delicious answering heat begin to curl low in her belly as his gaze raked over her slender form.  
  
She was utterly transfixed by him, paralyzed by the force of her own growing desire and able only to stare mutely at the elegant hand he raised to brush against her cheek in a surprisingly soft caress redolent with longing. The raw passion in his gaze became muted, softened by something akin to reverent wonderment.  
  
As she leaned into his touch, the dream derailed from the familiar track of past nights and spun wildly out of control.  
  
With an almost inaudible sigh, Sesshoumaru gathered her gently to his chest and simply held her. Kagome could feel one clawed hand brushing through her ebony tresses, and she reveled in the almost painful tenderness of his touch, as if he feared she would shatter if he exerted any more force.  
  
Unable to withstand the growing need to see his face, she lifted her head from his chest and pulled back enough to look up into his eyes. The demon prince appeared to be struggling with himself, caught between cool logic and raging desire, and the battle was evident upon his patrician features. Seeking to assuage some of his obvious distress, Kagome reached up to brush her delicate fingers against the pale planes of his cheek.  
  
His amber irises flared with sudden, golden fire, and with a low sound, he tangled his fist in the hair at the nape of her neck. Kagome had time to do little more than gasp before her head was roughly tugged back and Sesshoumaru's lips came crashing down on hers, mouth hungrily moving across hers in a dance of desperation. He seemed to almost be punishing her for the need he obviously felt-and punishing himself for giving in to it.  
  
She could hear his groan when she parted her lips under his assault, willingly accepting his questing tongue into her mouth. Sighing with her own surrender, the young miko reveled in the taste and texture of him, meeting his experienced attack with her own heated response.  
  
Shivers of want skated down her spine when his hands moved to gently cup her face, lean fingers splayed across her cheeks and under her chin so only the fingertips touched her sensitized skin. In a flash of insight, she realized he was afraid of hurting her with his sharp claws, and a tender smile curved her lips.  
  
Sesshoumaru pulled back at the telltale movement of her lips, scowling lightly and silently demanding an explanation of her sudden humor. Kagome simply brightened her smile, even going so far as to wink-wink!-at the youkai prince in teasing response to his stern expression. As she registered the almost undetectable widening of his topaz eyes at her playfulness, no doubt surprised she was not reduced to a mass of quivering fear in the face of his obvious displeasure, the young woman couldn't resist tweaking his royal attitude just a bit more.  
  
Raising herself onto her toes, using Sesshoumaru's broad shoulders for support, Kagome managed to get their faces almost level. Locking eyes with the great demon lord, brown meshing with antique gold, she slowly brought her lips to within a hair's breadth of his firm ones...and paused.  
  
When she could feel the vibrations of a low rumble emanating from Sesshoumaru's chest, Kagome closed the remaining distance between them by bringing her tongue out to slowly, languorously, trace the sculpted line of his bottom lip. Once. Twice. Before she could make a third pass, the banked fire in his eyes flared to raging life once more.  
  
Without warning, he renewed his assault on Kagome's senses, catching her lithe form high against his body and drinking of her lips as if his very life depended upon it. He slanted his lips across her soft ones over and over, now crushing them with almost brutal intensity, now nipping and licking with soft strokes of his tongue. Kagome sighed into his mouth, completely overcome and boneless with the passion he stirred in her.  
  
When she could feel herself trembling with unquenched ardor, the taiyoukai swept his arm under her legs and lifted her against his chest, cradling her there so he could continue to plunder her lips as he moved. He strode over to a promising spot, an old weeping cherry tree, branches bending to brush the mossy carpet. The flowers in full bloom clothed the swaying tendrils of the tree in pale, perfumed pink.  
  
Sesshoumaru pushed some branches aside and ducked into the shelter of the tree, the curtain dropping closed behind them, screening the lovers within a sweetly scented bower of cherry blossoms and silver splashes of moonlight. The shadows of the night played across the planes of his noble face in interesting combinations, and the dimness of the space made it difficult for Kagome to clearly see his expression. His eyes, however, burned brightly gold, mesmerizing in their intensity. The young priestess shivered in anticipation.  
  
She almost missed it, and she could have ben wrong, but Kagome thought she caught a flash of sharp white teeth at her revealing reaction to his proximity. Then she had no thought in her mind except how difficult it was becoming to breathe, for Sesshoumaru had dropped the arm under her knees, allowing her body to dangle fully against his. One arm was clamped firmly around her back, and Kagome could feel the tensile strength in his muscles as he used them to press her firmly against his hard length.  
  
She noted, with a mixture of confusion and joy, that his armor was missing. The only thing separating their bodies was smooth, heavy silk and the thin cotton of her own attire. Another glimmer of strong, white teeth came and went in the darkness, deliciously predatory and promising. All the breath was stolen from the young woman's lungs as she was slowly, tortuously slipped down the length of her lover's body.  
  
By the time her feet touched the ground, Kagome had a breathtakingly accurate mental image of each ridge and plane of Sesshoumaru's leanly muscled body. Her fingers itched to verify her visualization with hot, hard reality. Indeed, it seemed that was what he intended, for he had not moved. He simply stood before her, elegant and infuriatingly beautiful, waiting with seemingly infinite patience for her to choose the next step in their dance. Kagome's heart softened as she realized this proud creature was actually giving her the choice to either continue or halt their passionate exploration. Sesshoumaru, prince and taiyoukai, was giving her, lowly human Kagome, power over him, even if in such a small way. Relief and joy bubbled up inside her, and something broke free in her chest. It was that sense of rightness she always felt upon seeing his handsome face and the warm glow in his topaz eyes in her dreams.  
  
Kagome was not foolish enough to believe that the real Sesshoumaru felt anything other than contempt for her (at best), but she could not deny her own heart. Real or not, she loved this dream reflection of the great youkai lord, and she would not hold back anything with him-not her heart, not her soul, not her body.  
  
As the young priestess from the future moved her hands to slip softly under the collar of his white haori, sliding the silk over his broad shoulders, she kissed each inch of exposed skin as it was revealed, slowly working her way down his chest. Just as she reached the waistband of his hakama, Sesshoumaru hissed in warning, grabbed her shoulders and hauled her mouth back up to his, burning her with another kiss of fierce possession.  
  
Kagome smirked openly at the evidence of his impatience and finely held control, and pressed herself against him fully. Before she knew what had happened, her back was pillowed against a soft cushion of moss, the lichen silky against her bare skin. She had a scant instant to feel a breeze brush tantalizing fingers across her flesh before Sesshoumaru settled his weight carefully over her. Reveling in the feel of his skin pressed hotly to hers, flames seemed to leap to life wherever they touched.  
  
As the great Western Lord brought his lips down to hers in earnest passion, Kagome marveled anew at how much she loved this powerful man, so cold and ruthless outside, yet possessing an unexpected and completely magnetic warmth within. The miko sensed the wound in his heart, longed to heal it, and said the only thing she could think of at the time to help.  
  
"I love you, Sesshoumaru," she whispered, voice husky with suppressed emotion.  
  
A look of complete surprise crossed the youkai prince's elegant features and a blaze of unknown emotion flared briefly in his eyes before Kagome cut off any possible spoken response with her mouth.  
  
As the two flowed through the steps of a dance as timeless as the tide, the young miko spared enough thought for one brief moment of relief that the real Western Lord would never know how she felt. Just this-exchanging imaginary heated looks and unreal drugging kisses, moving together in primal rhythm-this was enough, even if it was only a dream.  
  
Just as they reached that mysterious, brilliant pinnacle of sensation they had both been straining for, urging each other toward, Kagome felt herself briefly wrenched out of space and time, tossed away from Sesshoumaru's impassioned and gentle embrace.  
  
She wanted to scream in frustrated denial.  
  
When her disorientation cleared, the young miko found herself in the center of the familiar ring of cherry trees, a rusty katana buried upright in the earth. She groaned inwardly, knowing what was coming.  
  
Prepared to feel the now-familiar pull on her limbs as if some outside force was manipulating her through the motions of the dream, she was a few seconds behind the action when she realized she still retained control over her body. Whipping her head to the side to stare at Sesshoumaru, she noticed he appeared slightly surprised, as well. He also appeared to be grimacing.  
  
Kagome was wondering what could be on the taiyoukai's mind when movement from Inuyasha caught her attention again. All of the miko's muscles tensed as she mentally prepared to withstand the fatal onslaught of her best friend's deadly claws. No matter how many times she experienced this sequence of events, no matter that it was an illusion of some sort, the pain always seemed real-at least while she was within the grip of the dream.  
  
Almost numbly, Kagome turned her back on Inuyasha, gazing into Sesshoumaru's face with a soft expression, radiant and focused on her newfound love for his dream self. What she saw in the always-stoic lord's countenance, though, was a completely unprecedented and frighteningly intense mixture of horror and animal rage.  
  
My God, Kagome thought, shocked, he's terrified...for me.  
  
Warmth bubbled up in her chest in waves of joy at this evidence of her dream lover's feeling for her. In her bemusement, she reached out to lay a delicate hand against his cheek, gently holding it there against his pale skin. Their eyes connected, and for a timeless instant Kagome could have sworn that it was not her ethereally elegant and uncharacteristic fantasy of Sesshoumaru, but the real Taiyoukai of the Western Lands-cold, ruthlessly intelligent and treacherously powerful-staring out at her from eyes glowing like amber coals. The moment was broken when he snarled at Inuyasha and, true to the complete break from the normal routine of the dream, flashed past her to lash out at the still-expressionless hanyou.  
  
As Kagome screamed, a confounding amalgamation of relief and horror boiling inside, she felt strong arms wrap around her in a comforting embrace, turning her face into a strong, broad chest to prevent her from taking in anything of the carnage he had wreaked in her defense other than a brief glimpse of dark, glossy-black blood.  
  
Her nose registered Sesshoumaru's woodsy scent and her muscles relaxed instantly, but her mind was screaming still. The strain of too many new, emotionally intense events proved to be beyond her capacity, and she felt normal, dreamless sleep reach out to take the pain, illusory as it was, away.  
  
Even as she was fading from the dream realm, though, her mind registered one more thought. As Sesshoumaru had lashed out at Inuyasha to protect her, he had snarled: "No one touches what is mine!"  
  
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Stalking through the trees without his usual wraith-like stealth, Sesshoumaru slashed viciously at the obstructing underbrush, effectively clearing it from his path. The demon lord was not in a good mood. No-no, that wasn't entirely accurate. He was irate. Incensed. Infuriated even.  
  
Ensnared and inflamed, he thought sourly, by a human female. From a dream.  
  
He snorted while that small bit of truth sank into his rage- and ardor- hazed brain.  
  
Lo, how the mighty have fallen.  
  
Halting his progress briefly, Sesshoumaru turned to slowly gaze at the forest behind him. The path he had taken from the point where he had left his companions behind (only because Rin was an unwanted irritant to his already volatile state, not because he desired to protect the annoying human child from his barely-leashed temper) was clearly marked. A line of leveled vegetation lay behind him, all either severed cleanly or still hissing and melting in the remnants of his caustic poison. If he would have been prone to facial expression, the taiyoukai surely would have winced at the obvious display of his lack of even the most basic emotional control.  
  
As if last night's dream did not prove that clearly enough, he berated himself.  
  
Honestly, he was an adult demon now, more than half-grown into his full powers, and he had behaved like the veriest base-born swine with that...woman. He had surrendered to the smoldering look in her eyes without more than a token protest and rutted with her like an untried youth.  
  
Well, he corrected himself with no small amount of pride, I certainly showed more finesse than some callow stripling if her response was any indication.  
  
As he sank back into memory of the heated interlude from the previous night's dream, he could still feel her tiny hands smoothing over the heated flesh of his body in a ghostly caress, picture how she had looked under him, writhing in joyous abandon, hear her cries of passion ringing in his ears...  
  
It took but a bare second to realize it was not a result of his suddenly overactive imagination that caused him to hear the woman's voice again. He actually could hear the thin thread of an unmistakably feminine scream.  
  
Sesshoumaru scented the air, searching for clues on whether or not there was anything of interest up ahead that would justify his sudden need to engage his claws, reflexes, and (hopefully) wits in pitched, heated battle. After turning in several directions with no change in the general scent of the forest, the demon prince began to relax, believing the sound he had heard was no more than some foolish village wench being despoiled or some such nonsense.  
  
Just as he pivoted on his heel to return to the clearing where he had deposited Rin and Jaken, the wind shifted direction and a new scent was carried to him on the wind. It slid along the breeze to tickle his senses, and recognition bloomed in his mind. He knew these smells-very well indeed, for he had made it his business to always be alert for them. Combined, the scents triggered a myriad of repressed emotion within him; contempt, jealousy (though he would never admit to it), the vicious need for blood... and some soft, gentle feeling he had never known before he began to dream of a powerful, beautiful miko.  
  
The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a low growl swelled in his chest. Adrenaline began to trickle through his veins, and his muscles tensed in preparation for a much-anticipated battle.  
  
Pinning down the direction of the battlefield, Sesshoumaru launched his lean, hard-muscled body into the air and disappeared toward the sound of fighting in a blur of white. A fierce, feral grin graced his elegant features as he faded into the dimness of the forest. He was looking forward to some exercise.  
  
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TT: *ducks sharp objects* Wait! Wait! I didn't leave it there, really! Just click the button. I'm not THAT evil, not that I wasn't considering waiting a few days to post the rest, but I braved Sess's threats of violence for the sake of fangirls and boys everywhere...  
  
Sess: *standing over TT's shoulder, growling slightly in annoyance* Do not malign the honor of this Sesshoumaru, wench. It is enough that you forced me to perform such indecent actions-with a human-in this tragedy you call a chapter.  
  
TT: *looks skeptical* Oh, come on! Like I had to 'force' you to perform with Kagome. Come on, the girl is gorgeous, and obviously head over heels for you. Why, I bet she'd even be your willing love slave, you constipated canine!  
  
Sess: Did that disgraceful display of shameless pandering to the fangirls even have any relevance to the plot of this tragedy?  
  
TT: *gasps and looks hurt* Of course it does! How could you even ask that?  
  
Sess: Well then, what is it?  
  
TT: What is what?  
  
Sess: The relevance to the plot?  
  
TT: .......  
  
Sess: *smirks* I rest my case. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. But unless Sesshoumaru gets off his high horse, I'm gonna tell his momma about what an SOB he's been to this poor, toiling writer!  
  
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** I will post this on MM.org...just as soon as the site is back up, that is! **  
  
I've never had to write so much action before, and this is my first battle scene. Please be kind! And without further ado...  
  
Chapter 8  
  
As he neared the cacophony of guttural roars and harsh battle cries, Sesshoumaru analyzed the myriad of scents now pouring along on the breeze. Beneath the metallic tang of blood and fear lay the unmistakable odors of his fool brother's group, Kagura, and that mindless slave Kohaku. The reek of hundreds of lesser youkai overrode all other scents in the area, and Sesshoumaru briefly spared a thought to wonder at his brother's stupidity. How could his nose have missed such a stench?  
  
The buffeting wind from Kagura's wind blades ceased for a moment, and in the lull, the taiyoukai caught the normal scent of the area. Wrinkling his aristocratic nose in distaste, Sesshoumaru tried not to breathe in the rotten-egg smell issuing from the direction of the volcano just visible over the tree line. Well, what remained of the tree line.  
  
Very clever of Naraku to shield the scent of his pitiful army with the natural odors of the area, Sesshoumaru thought.  
  
Of course, he would never have let such slip past him. The demon prince's opinion of his half-brother slipped down another notch. Fool.  
  
Catching sight of the struggle in progress, the Western Lord halted just inside the remaining tree line, deciding to observe the action for a moment. He took in the scene in an instant, noting how the boy and Kagura did not involve themselves in the battle except to direct the youkai army's movements against the three humans formed in a loose group, or to prevent any rebellious stragglers from escaping the group. Sesshoumaru's acute olfactory senses did not register any sign of Naraku himself, only that of his slaves. As much as his demon blood was screaming for release, perhaps this battle was not worth his time, then.  
  
He contented himself to simply observe and see who the major players in this scene were. The stoic lord did not intend to waste his precious time and energy on useless pursuits. Besides, this would give him a golden opportunity to devote his undivided attention to the human miko, to ascertain whether or not she was the woman from his dream. If she was not, then he would move on to his next alternative. If she was...then he would simply wrest her from his brother's foolish influence.  
  
Sesshoumaru's gaze immediately caught sight of the slight form of the girl Kagome. He annoyed himself by feeling a spurt of disappointment at her obvious non-involvement in the battle. She stood with a tiny ball of auburn fur on her shoulder he knew to be the kitsune child, armed with a bow and arrows, but not doing anything more than holding one nocked and ready. Judging by the positions of the monk and taijiya, she was clearly being protected by them.  
  
His gaze followed the progress of the demon exterminator for a moment as she battled wave upon wave of youkai. Despite his usual contempt for humans, the taiyoukai had to admit her lithe figure and accurate movements were impressive. With timed precision, the dark-haired warrior flung her centipede-demon boomerang into the attacking hordes, mowing them down like sheaves of barley before the scythe.  
  
He had never witnessed her huge weapon in action before, and Sesshoumaru's slender brows rose slightly despite himself. Her technique was a study in feline grace and economy of movement. Though the bone weapon was no doubt heavy, she flung it easily, inflicting maximum damage with minimum effort.  
  
Just as the taiyoukai was considering revising his opinion of this one human upward, though, a single youkai snaked under her latest attack, the boomerang whistling over its knobby head with mere millimeters to spare.  
  
It dove past her bodyguard, the fire-cat, and was about sink a vicious row of poison-coated fangs into her shoulder when a metal staff connected unexpectedly with its head. Its eel-like body dropping like a stone from the harsh blow of the shakujou, the vile thing convulsed once, black, viscous blood spurting from around the concave wound, then spreading in a slow pool to join the rest of the gore on the slick ground.  
  
"Houshi-sama!" he heard her gasp, no doubt intensely grateful for the timely rescue.  
  
The idiotic monk that had no doubt just saved her life moved to stand beside the taijiya, closing ranks around Kagome during a brief lull in battle. Sesshoumaru watched as he inquired after her welfare, leaning in close on the pretense of solicitous concern. The youkai lord swore he heard the monk inhale her fragrance deeply, and his lips twitched at the besotted man's telling actions. To take the time to indulge in his baser lusts in the midst of battle, this human was either incredibly confident in his ability to protect himself from oncoming enemies, or incredibly stupid.  
  
As the holy man snaked a rosary-sealed hand out to slide over the sleek curve of the woman's flank, the demon lord watched the wench stiffen, then swing her returned boomerang down with harsh force upon his obviously thick skull. Sesshoumaru noted with amusement that his question had been answered: the monk was stupid. And also incredibly hard-headed.  
  
Amazed at the resilience of the human skull, the taiyoukai observed as the recently beaten houshi recovered quickly and swung once more to face a fresh wave of oncoming youkai, all business once more.  
  
Not very effective in battle without his Air Void, Sesshoumaru thought with an inner smirk.  
  
He had noted that the monk refrained from removing the sealing beads from his cursed hand, no doubt painfully aware of the poison insects hovering on the edges of the battle, patiently waiting for the chance to dive into the welcoming darkness of the vacuum. The Western Lord grimaced slightly at the sight of them, remembering how he himself had released the saimyoushou upon the monk for the first time. It was a painful, infuriating reminder of how he, Sesshoumaru, had been used by Naraku to accomplish his twisted, self- serving goals.  
  
A growl of repressed rage bubbled up in his chest at the memory of the lowly hanyou's temerity at attempting to use him-him! Eldest son of the Great Demon Lord Inutaisho-to eliminate Inuyasha.  
  
The only being who will erase that halfling from existence is this Sesshoumaru, he vowed again, leashing his straining temper and repressing his building fury.  
  
The demon prince's wandering attention was returned abruptly to the battle when he registered a harsh shout from the monk. The foolish human had gotten himself separated from the questionable protection of the taijiya, and was currently being pressed back into the blood-soaked mud by the hairy bulk of one of the ugliest youkai Sesshoumaru had ever had the misfortune of viewing.  
  
Just as one great, club-like arm swung down to dig glittering talons into the houshi's tender human flesh, a bright streak lit the air like a comet, embedding itself into the attacking youkai's chest. In a sizzling flash of pink-white light, the reeking flesh of the unfortunate demon disappeared from the force of purifying energy moving in a wave from the point of impact outward.  
  
Shifting his eyes along the path the light had followed, Sesshoumaru located the source. He was not surprised to find Kagome poised with the bowstring still vibrating from the force of its recent release, and she was already reaching back for another arrow to fire. The young priestess seemed much more confident in her abilities than last time he had seen her use a weapon (against him, he thought sourly)as she stood, legs spread and slender arms pulling the string taut once more. The display of her much- improved miko power-and aim-struck Sesshoumaru as encouraging, but he did not dare to believe that this small demonstration proved the troublesome little spitfire was the woman from his dreams.  
  
A determined expression graced the delicate features of her face, but her skin was pale with tension. He could smell her fear, and his heart lurched unexpectedly at her distress. To avoid the uncomfortable sensations the sight of her invoked in him, the demon prince resolutely turned his attention away from the beguiling sight of the little miko and assessed the tide of battle.  
  
The humans seemed to-through some miracle of heaven-be holding their own against Naraku's hordes, but Sesshoumaru could see the noose slowly tightening around the small group. Inuyasha was still no where in sight, and the youkai lord wondered what could be distracting enough to separate the overbearingly protective hanyou from his miko.  
  
As this thought filtered through his mind, Sesshoumaru's acute vision caught sight of a flash of white between the trees before it burst into the clearing, followed closely by Inuyasha.  
  
Naraku, his instincts screamed, but he held himself back from lunging at his long-sought target.  
  
His patience was rewarded when his senses caught up to his rampaging reflexes.  
  
There was indeed a strong hint of Naraku's spoor emanating from his brother's opponent, but it was only a hint. The overriding odor was one of dark shadows and black, twisted magic. This was not Naraku himself, then, but another one of his puppets.  
  
Coward, he spat to himself, turning his full attention to the figure shrouded grotesquely in the pelt of a white baboon.  
  
The kugutsu was sprouting woody tentacles and aiming them with javelin-like accuracy, then dipping and swaying evasively like a crazed marionette trying to fly. Inuyasha followed it closely, swinging Tetsusaiga hither and yon, managing nothing more damaging than leveling the surrounding forest. The demon lord noted the hanyou was bleeding profusely from several wounds, and his handling of the fang seemed even clumsier than usual. It was almost as if it had grown heavier.  
  
Could that be why he is here, where Toutousai was last known to be? Sesshoumaru wondered to himself, Did he break the fang again? Does his stupidity know no bounds?  
  
But the more he observed his brother's movements, the less that theory seemed sound. Truly, Inuyasha had never displayed anything close to finesse wielding Tetsusaiga, but since he had learned the technique, he had always preferred to release a showy series of Kaze no Kizu attacks over simply hacking and slashing as he was now.  
  
Was he perhaps afraid of unintentionally injuring one of his absurd companions? His brash young brother did seem to be trying to lead Naraku's puppet away from his companions.  
  
Fool, came the demon prince's automatically contemptuous thought, to place the welfare of companions over the chance to obtain victory...it simply underlines his lack of anything remotely resembling wits.  
  
He ignored the fact that, should Inuyasha indeed injure the wench Kagome, he, Sesshoumaru, would be unable to verify if she was the miko who could harness the Tetsusaiga for him. That would never do.  
  
I do not wish to see her harmed, he resolved to himself, then started as the double meaning of the thought's loose phrasing sank in. Only because I may have use for her, he assured himself quickly and firmly, not because I carry any feelings for the wench. What I have felt today is only a result of this damnably long hunt for that traitorous bastard Naraku making me restless. He didn't pursue the natural progression to find out what he was restless for.  
  
Just as these worrisome reflections flitted across the surface of his increasingly chaotic mind, a sudden surge of movement near Kagome snapped his attention away from Inuyasha's continuing struggles against the kugutsu's seemingly endless tentacles.  
  
A wave of youkai rabble had swept in behind the small group of defending humans in a flanking maneuver, surrounding the miko and cutting her off from her companions. Sesshoumaru could hear the taijiya and monk screaming her name in warning, but knew they had no hope of reaching her in time to prevent the mass of demons from slashing her to bloody shreds. The taiyoukai's heart was inexplicably in his throat, and he had unconsciously taken one step forward, eyes widened in growing horror, when a blinding flash of light burst forth from the center of the tangled, writhing knot of attackers.  
  
In a glowing, growing bubble of holy energy, the offending demons were immolated into cinders. Sesshoumaru's golden eyes widened at the phenomenal display of power and he stood, transfixed by the sight of Kagome posed, remote and beautiful, in the fading light of her deadly counterattack. This was not the weak human female who followed his worthless brother around blindly; this was the powerfully seductive temptress from his dreams.  
  
As he watched, awash in conflicting emotions and uncomfortable truths, the steel seemed to melt from her spine and she dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, her energy clearly having deserted her. The remaining youkai did not waste the opportunity presented and surged forward once more, a collective scream of imminent victory issuing from a hundred throats.  
  
Before he was aware of moving, the demon prince found himself airborne, flying toward the barely-conscious miko in a desperate bid to reach her- save her-before she was torn to pieces by the blood-crazed masses of the enemy. As he drew Toukijin from his sash, slashing through bodies before they could reach Kagome, her dark, wide-eyed gaze locked with his own. The demon lord was unaware of the red seeping into his amber irises.  
  
She seemed utterly shocked by the turn of events, but he did not take the time to wonder if it was her amazing display of power or his sudden appearance between herself and the enemy that astonished her more. The taiyoukai continued to incise a path of death and destruction through the youkai horde attacking his prize, intent only on protecting what was his.  
  
Never again will Naraku lay his filthy hands on what is mine! He vowed fervently.  
  
Sesshoumaru was within feet of reaching the fallen miko's side, shouts of "Hiraikotsu!" and "Kagome-sama!" following him through the forest of bloody limbs, when a roar of utterly infuriated rage and horrified desperation seeped through the haze of his blood lust.  
  
"Kagome!" he could hear Inuyasha bellow.  
  
The taiyoukai did not break his concentration from defeating the remaining enemy, now beginning to flee before the bright edge of his sword, but a prickle of awareness shivered up his spine, causing the fine hairs all over his body to stand on end. A sense of evil intent so strong it was almost stifling had Sesshoumaru twisting in midair, sword arm coming up instinctively to block the blow from a tentacle that had been inches from him.  
  
Typical of Naraku to strike an enemy when his back is turned, he sneered even as he flew, parrying a lightning-fast series of jabs from the dishonorable hanyou's kugutsu.  
  
A blur of red and white caught the demon lord's peripheral vision as Inuyasha flashed toward where Kagome lay, weak and exhausted and whimpering in distress. As his half brother surged past him to reach the fallen human, Sesshoumaru noted with deep shock that Tetsusaiga was no longer transformed. Now, perhaps when it was needed most, only a rusty, useless strip of neglected steel stood in the stead of their father's great fang of protection.  
  
Inuyasha valiantly hacked at the myriad appendages shooting closer and closer to Kagome with deadly intent, but the dull blade did little more than bounce off the 'flesh' of the magic puppet. A thin tendril, snakelike and quick, slithered past the two brothers to wrap around the immobile girl's ankle. With a high-pitched scream of alarm, Kagome found herself being dragged roughly along the ground, pulled inexorably toward the waiting embrace of Naraku's tool.  
  
"Kukuku," it chuckled evilly, the first sound the vile thing had made, "It seems you are wanted by both noble brothers now, little miko. But they cannot have you just yet. I have too many wonderful, enjoyable plans to give you up so easily."  
  
"Naraku!" Sesshoumaru's control snapped at the taunting of his self- declared mortal enemy, and his eyes flashed crimson, "You will not have what is mine!"  
  
"Yours?" the kugutsu repeated with Naraku's voice, "Since when did she become so important to you, demon lord? I believed that girl child to be the only being you cared for-besides yourself, of course," it continued, sounding truly puzzled-and delighted-by the ruthless taiyoukai's sudden passion for a human.  
  
Sesshoumaru was pulled up short by the accusation, abruptly and coldly aware of how volatile and uncontrolled he had allowed himself to become over a human wench whose only worth to him lay in her resemblance to a woman from a dream.  
  
What ails me? He thought in bewilderment, I had dismissed it before as utterly ridiculous, but has the witch cast some sort of spell over me? He was jerked out of his disturbing thoughts by the sickening thud of flesh impacting flesh, followed by a groan of surprised agony.  
  
Immediately turning his attention to Kagome, certain she had been the victim of some violence, he was relieved she still appeared to be in one piece. But her dark eyes were huge and staring, and a choked scream of denial was issuing from her pale, parted lips in a thin thread of sound. Following her horrified gaze with his own, his breath caught involuntarily at the sight that met him.  
  
Reacting without thinking, Sesshoumaru pivoted fluidly, bringing his sword across his body to gain momentum for the overhead swing he brought down on Naraku's kugutsu, severing the baboon head from its grotesquely deformed body. It disappeared in a shower of scattered ash, following the sudden retreat of Kagura, Kohaku, and the remaining youkai army.  
  
The taiyoukai fought the urge to pursue his prey. He had more pressing business here.  
  
Naraku's taunting laughter echoed around the battlefield.  
  
"We will meet again, Western Lord," he called, "and I will have your little miko then."  
  
Sesshoumaru stood, still and silent, letting the fury of battle wash away from him. Taking in several deep, calming breaths, he felt his usual control lock back into place. Once he felt the cold mask of his usual nature slip over his elegant features, he allowed himself to turn his full attention to the small knot of people surrounding the collapsed bundle of red stretched out on the bloody ground.  
  
Kagome's shirt was washed crimson with spreading blood, her raven-dark head bent so the ends of her hair lay fully in the gory mud. The demon lord ignored the tightness in his chest, the inexplicable feeling of opportunities lost, and kept himself purposely aloof from the scene. There was nothing he could do, anyway. But something about the crystal tears pouring from Kagome's liquid eyes caused his stomach to clench for some unknown reason, and he couldn't stop his feet from carrying him over to her.  
  
Halting beside her slight, shaking form, he rigidly retained his painfully erect posture, refusing to bend his pride by lowering himself to her side. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she was shuddering with the force of her pain. Her slender, delicate fingers moved repeatedly, spasmodically, smoothing over the tangled silver hair of the man cradled in her lap, a gaping hole in his chest oozing blood with each increasingly sluggish heartbeat. During a fatal lapse in attention, the hanyou had been impaled by a tentacle with deadly accuracy.  
  
"Inuyasha. Inuyasha," she whispered frantically, voice breaking with grief. Raising tear-washed eyes to the impassive golden gaze of the man beside her, she implored, "Sesshoumaru, please, please...is there anything you can do? I..." her voice trailed off into a fresh wave of sobs, and her shoulders shook with the force of her heartbreak.  
  
The demon lord stood stoically in the face of her emotional entreaty, arms held loosely at his sides, seemingly unmoved by her copious tears. He was fully aware Inuyasha was on the verge of death, but he did not believe any amount of skilled healing would be quick enough to save the hanyou's life. He said as much to the distraught miko.  
  
"There is nothing to be done," he intoned diffidently, unsurprised when her tears increased and a look of horror crossed her face.  
  
"No!" she cried, "I know you hate him, Sesshoumaru, but like it or not, he's your brother! You share the same blood!" She eyed Tenseiga meaningfully.  
  
He wondered how she knew of it's powers, then realized Toutousai must have told the secret.  
  
Damn, he thought, irritated, if I do not use the cursed sword on my wretched brother, she will be stubborn and difficult to manage.  
  
Sighing inwardly, he had prepared himself to give in to her pleas when an idea struck him.  
  
I must be truly addled by her witchcraft not to have considered this sooner, he thought, striking upon the perfect bargaining chip to gain her unconditional and unarguable cooperation in achieving his objectives.  
  
Narrowing his golden gaze on her, he pronounced with clear precision:  
  
"Let us strike a bargain, miko," he said, watching with interest as her eyes lost some of their fear and hope began to glow in the tear-stained depths.  
  
When he had the undivided attention of all in the group-all that were conscious, anyway-he continued.  
  
"I will heal the whelp," a mutinous expression crossed Kagome's features at the demon lord's turn of phrase, but she remained blessedly silent, "but in exchange I will require you," he finished.  
  
For a space of three heartbeats, silence reigned. Then the gasps and exclamations of outrage were heard from the taijiya, monk, and fox cub. Kagome herself remained quiet, thinking, before she shook herself slightly and addressed the taiyoukai with a voice that, to her credit, wavered only slightly.  
  
"Um," she began hesitantly, "you require me...to do what exactly," she asked.  
  
Sesshoumaru suppressed his irritation that she would dare to question him, as if his honor as a Lord was not enough to prevent him from demanding anything reprehensible of her. He also experienced a twinge of pride that she possessed the courage to face his formidable self, but he dismissed the aberrant feeling as the result of the aftermath of battle.  
  
"That is not your concern at this time," he said repressively, "All you need to know is that, in exchange for my services," he grimaced slightly at the demeaning implication of servitude, "I require you, miko."  
  
At the continued look of blank confusion on her face, he deigned to lower himself to clarify. Only to speed this distasteful business along, mind you, not because he wanted to inveigle himself into her good graces by being...considerate.  
  
"I wish you to accompany me for a specific task...Kagome," he hesitated before he said her name, noting how the sound of it rolling off his tongue had her widening those lovely eyes in surprise and flushing slightly. He ignored the urge to repeat it just to see that delicate flush grace her cheeks again.  
  
What have I been infected with? He thought in growing alarm.  
  
Kagome turned her face back to Inuyasha, brow furrowed in concentration. She started when her eyes met her injured friend's and she breathed, "Inuyasha. You heard?"  
  
The hanyou nodded jerkily and opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged besides a wet rattle. His lungs were filling with fluid, most likely blood. He settled for shaking his head in denial of his brother's suspect offer, but Kagome would have none of it.  
  
"No, Inuyasha," she said gently, her fingers brushing lightly over his forehead in soft, placating movements.  
  
Sesshoumaru was startled by the sensation of ghost fingers moving over his own skin, remnant memories of last night's dream. He shook off the unwanted fancy.  
  
"I have to do this. It's the only way to save you," her voice rose on the last few words, her shock and hysteria of moments ago returning.  
  
The sound of Kagome's obvious distress quieted Inuyasha's denials, but he pinned his brother with a fierce glare instead. Sesshoumaru understood the meaning, even if the hanyou couldn't say the words.  
  
'As soon as I am able, I will be hunting you down like a fox after a rabbit' and 'Harm her and die'.  
  
The youkai prince didn't acknowledge the silent warnings with so much as a blink, but Inuyasha knew his ruthless half-sibling comprehended his message, even if he did not take him seriously.  
  
The bargain was struck, and Sesshoumaru watched his bastard brother with barely suppressed amusement as he reached a hand toward his sash. The fear and speculation in golden eyes the same color as his own was patently obvious. Inuyasha was wondering if perhaps he was about to be dispatched with Toukijin instead of healed by Tenseiga. Sesshoumaru wasn't above eking a little more pleasure out of the situation by letting his clawed hand hover over the hilts of his weapons a moment longer, but the unexpected and demanding pulse at his hip had him pulling his father's fang without further theatrics.  
  
In a single arc of deadly grace, Tenseiga sang from its sheath and bit deeply into Inuyasha's chest, slicing at a clean angle across his torso before being settled home again at its master's side.  
  
The path the enchanted blade took glowed briefly with a light similar to that of Kagome's miko power, then faded into nothingness. The hideous wound in his foolish brother's chest had disappeared, along with a myriad of lesser punctures and scrapes, and the breath no longer rattled and wheezed from his lungs.  
  
Inuyasha was healed.  
  
To the hanyou's complete surprise, Sesshoumaru offered a reassurance to the group at large, though he was certain it was directed specifically at either himself or Kagome.  
  
"While you are with me, you will be under my care. Therefore, I will allow no harm to befall you," he asserted cooly, facing the startled miko without a hint of emotion in his countenance.  
  
"I will give you a moment to gather your things and say your farewells," and with that unexpected courtesy, he turned abruptly on his heel and stalked to the edge of what remained of the forest, putting his back to the brother he had just saved for the sake of a weeping human female.  
  
A human female whose powers I need to wrest Tetsusaiga from my bastard brother. It is the only way to consolidate my power and ensure the future of the Western Lands, he thought, bitter at the need for outside help in his rule, and uncomfortable that he had to remind himself of his purely objective reasons for procuring the wench.  
  
The troublesome thing was, his mind kept inventing subjective reasons for seeking her out. His pursuit wasn't so much about her power and usefulness as a tool anymore, but was evolving into an obsession with her beauty and grace, passion, intoxicating scent and courageous nature.  
  
Even as he ruthlessly squashed those vexatious, unsettling thoughts, he couldn't suppress the relief that welled up in his chest at the sound of her soft footfalls approaching, then stopping beside his tense form.  
  
Without a word, he started off into the woods, suddenly relaxing and breathing easier than he had in a month when she followed where he led without protest.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
TT: *faces audience with triumphant grin* Aha! You thought that I was going to leave things as they were last chapter, didn't you? Go on, admit it. You thought I was going to be evil and leave you hanging after all the building up, teasing, and taunting I did about this long-awaited chapter. Come on, give me some credit! Would I do that to you? After all, I'm such a sweet, accommodating, pleasant person, I could never-  
  
Sess: *suddenly appears beside TT* .........  
  
TT: *jumps, then stares at Sess silently*  
  
Sess: .........  
  
TT: ..........  
  
Sess: *sighs* Aren't you going to at least tell them the truth?  
  
TT: *blushes in extreme embarrassment* Ahem. You mean about how I had to convince you to let me post the battle scene at the same time I did the lemon, instead of waiting?  
  
Sess: *growls* I thought we already went through this. No, about how I had to threaten you with extreme bodily injury if you did not post the battle scene at the same time as that disgusting and completely self-serving gratuitous...*whispers* sex scene. *shudders in remembered horror*  
  
TT: Oh, that. *blushes again, then snuggles Sess's arm* But you didn't complain about engaging in a little private 'gratuitous'-ness last night, if I recall. *grins wickedly* Maybe I should put you in more violent situations...it really gets your-ahem-juices flowing!  
  
Sess: *growls at bad playon words* I'm leaving before you get on a roll. *stalks offset in a huff*  
  
TT: *squeals at perfect set-up* Oohhh! I'll give you a 'roll'! *chases Sess to his trailer* Wait! I've got a million more where that came from! *turns back to thoroughly bored/disgusted audience* Oh! Push the button for responses! Don't forget to show you care with a review! 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. I think I may have owned Sesshoumaru for about...oh, I don't know...three seconds. It was after I showed him the draft for the first battle scene (you know, Ch.7). His eyes lit up and he looked like a kid at Christmas. Then I showed him the final proof for the lemony dream sequence. *shudders* I don't think he appreciated it very much, but I don't understand why...  
  
Previously:  
  
"I will give you a moment to gather your things and say your farewells," and with that unexpected courtesy, he turned abruptly on his heel and stalked to the edge of what remained of the forest, putting his back to the brother he had just saved for the sake of a weeping human female.  
  
The troublesome thing was, his mind kept inventing subjective reasons for seeking her out. His pursuit wasn't so much about her power and usefulness as a tool anymore, but was evolving into an obsession with her beauty and grace, passion, intoxicating scent and courageous nature.  
  
Even as he ruthlessly squashed those vexatious, unsettling thoughts, he couldn't suppress the relief that welled up in his chest at the sound of her soft footfalls approaching, then stopping beside his tense form.  
  
Without a word, he started off into the woods, suddenly relaxing and breathing easier than he had in a month when she followed where he led without protest.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Why do I not have Tetsusaiga in my grasp at this very moment? Sesshoumaru wondered to himself. I had the perfect opportunity to take it from the hanyou at the same time I took his wench.  
  
It was most unlike him-unprecedented, even-to willingly leave a prize behind. Inuyasha obviously had been rendered unable to fully control the fang, if the battle just past was any indication. But some distant corner of his mind supplied the reminder that without the fang's sealing power, Inuyasha's demon blood would overtake his feeble mind and he would go insane. Sesshoumaru did not relish the thought of having to destroy a rabid mongrel, brother or not-it was too much effort. So, he rationalized, he would let the halfling keep the sword...for now.  
  
And in the meantime, I have the miko, he reminded himself, a feeling of satisfactions sweeping through him.  
  
Kagome, his mind supplied her name, whispering it through the long, lonely passages of his soul.  
  
The demon lord shook himself out of his thoughts, anger beginning to rise anew at his preoccupation with the human wench. Inuyasha's human wench. He fought back the urge to growl.  
  
She is mine now! The bargain has been struck and cannot be undone.  
  
Sesshoumaru had led Kagome but a few hundred yards into the tree line when he stopped suddenly, scenting the air. Without a word to the startled miko, he flashed off to the side, leaping over a tangled stand of prickly bracken to delve a hand inside. He was completely mindless of the bloody scrapes and cuts the long, vicious thorns left behind on his pale skin. They would heal soon enough.  
  
Pulling a kicking and struggling bundle of quivering rags behind him, the demon prince stalked back to Kagome's side and roughly deposited it on the ground, practically at her feet. Sesshoumaru noted with amusement she jumped at the 'gift'.  
  
"What is your business here?" Sesshoumaru demanded imperiously, glaring coldly down at the shaking form crumpled in terror before his imposing presence.  
  
Dry leaves rustled from the frantic movements of the terrified...being was the best Kagome could come up with while it had it's face pressed to the forest floor. Her tender heart took pity on it, even as her mind screamed at her that this was most likely an associate of Naraku's, therefore an enemy and a danger. But Kagome was never able to ignore the promptings of her gentle nature, so spoke, not unkindly, overriding the ruthless demon lord's intimidating address.  
  
"What is your name?" she inquired in as friendly a tone as she could manage.  
  
When the youkai lifted his head and the miko caught sight of it's face, she gasped despite herself, recoiling in remembered horror. It was one of those frog youkai who ate human souls! She shuddered and took an involuntary step closer to Sesshoumaru's side, unconsciously seeking out the promise of his strength and protection.  
  
Sesshoumaru was inordinately pleased at the human's display of trust in him- well, his claws and fangs, anyway-even as he was disgusted by the sudden disappearance of the backbone she displayed during battle.  
  
"Answer!" he barked out to the still-silent youkai. He was secretly pleased at the sudden appearance of an outlet for his not-quite-released frustration, uncharitably hoping the scum would resist his demands so he could...persuade him to tell all of his secrets.  
  
The demon lord had no illusions that what crouched before them was an innocent youkai wandered onto the battle scene by accident. The stench of recent contact with Kagura and Kohaku clung to him like a dirty cloud. He resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the odor, instead settling on cracking his knuckles theatrically, noting with amusement that the frog youkai wasn't the only one to jump at the sound in apprehension.  
  
So, she remembers the effects of my poison claw, does she? He smirked inwardly at the thought, but then sobered. Suddenly, the idea of the feisty little female cringing in fear of him wasn't as amusing as it had been before.  
  
Then again, maybe it never really had been such a fun thought-he didn't know, as Kagome had never really shrunk from him before. He remembered the time she stood, straight and proud, pointing the rusty blade of a recently- freed Tetsusaiga at his chest as she ranted on about his attempt to melt her bones into slag.  
  
A warmth crept into the area around his heart at the recollection, and the demon lord growled. Now was not the time for useless ruminations! He turned his attention back to the hunched form groveling on the ground at his feet.  
  
The thing still had not answered either of the questions put to it, so Sesshoumaru leveled his coldest, most menacing stare upon the top of its green, moist head.  
  
As if feeling the weight of that glare, the youkai finally managed to croak out, "Rou...Routarou, waka-gimi[i]."  
  
Sesshoumaru continued to stare down at the unfortunate frog, who began to sweat even more profusely than before. Finally, after a seemingly interminable stretch of silence, the demon lord spoke.  
  
"You know who I am," it was not a question, but the frog nodded anyway. "Since that is so, and I smell Naraku on you, then you were part of the army that attacked us."  
  
Kagome noted with surprise that Sesshoumaru included himself among the group of shard detectors with that statement, but before she could do more than fleetingly wonder at the sense of happiness that the taiyoukai would so admit to an alliance-of any sort-between himself and Inuyasha, he was continuing.  
  
"Therefore, you are an enemy," he paused threateningly, and the air seemed suddenly dark and oppressive with the force of his rising youki.  
  
The young miko shivered at the sensation his dark energy caused to course along her nerve endings, and fought the instinctive urge to release a burst of her purifying power. It would not do, though, to purify Inuyasha's brother out of existence...not right now, anyway.  
  
Not ever! A small voice asserted from deep in her mind. Kagome brushed it into a corner to deal with later and concentrated on the scene before her instead.  
  
If this was one of Naraku's henchmen as Sesshoumaru asserted, then she would need to know everything possible about him. Besides the usual need to find out where the villain was hiding and how far he was to completing the Shikon no Tama, this Routaro might have information on what was happening to Tetsusaiga. Perhaps Naraku had a hand in that, as well?  
  
"N-No!" Routarou denied association with the evil hanyou, "I'm not an enemy! I-" the rest of his prevarication was cut off by a clawed hand at his throat, lifting his kicking, struggling form several feet off the ground.  
  
Kagome gasped at the light of violence that had kindled in Sesshoumaru's eyes.  
  
"You dare tell lies to this Sesshoumaru?" the irate demon lord ground out, a flash of scarlet entering his eyes briefly, "You presume to claim you are not here on that bastard Naraku's orders?"  
  
He shook the frog youkai to emphasize his anger, and to prompt some sort of response. None was forthcoming, though, and Sesshoumaru felt the poison seep into his clawed hands at the temerity of the low-born trash to deny him what he demanded.  
  
Before he realized what was happening, Kagome had placed her fragile hand on his forearm, which was pulled back, poised to strike with the corrosive agent already seeping from his fingers in a green cloud. He snapped his head around to pin her with a cold glare, opalescent hair whipping about his shoulders at the movement. Surprisingly though, he saw no signs of fear from her, only a worried crease between her dark, slender brows.  
  
Shaking her head slightly, she reminded him, "Sesshoumaru, he can't answer with your hand around his throat." Did he detect a hint of amusement at her tone?  
  
Looking down at the frog, now an unpleasant shade of puce from lack of oxygen, the youkai lord's pale brows rose slightly in mild surprise at the truth of her statement. Slowly easing the pressure of his locked fingers, he let the little toad drop from his dangled station.  
  
Landing in a heap, Routarou gasped in great gulps of air, thanking the gods for the beautiful human who had just (insanely) stepped in front of one of the most dangerous beings alive to rescue him. He ignored the fact that she did not insist the Lord of the Western Lands spare his life-only that he be released so he could answer their questions.  
  
Surely what paltry answers he could give would earn him a slow and hideously painful death at the hands of the cold, predatory youkai towering over his quaking, shivering body! Routarou could see it in his golden eyes: death waited there. Unless...  
  
Unless, he thought to himself, mind working frantically to find a way out of this mess, Unless I can tell them something that would earn mercy...  
  
The frog youkai would spill his guts-figuratively speaking, of course-if it would gain him release from the promise of ruthless violence blazing out at him from Sesshoumaru's topaz eyes.  
  
And if I don't, then he'll most likely spill my guts anyway-literally, Routarou thought with a deep shudder.  
  
"My Lord," he began, once again pressing his face into the forest floor, unheedful of the dirt and leaves that clung to the wet and perspiring skin of his forehead.  
  
"I have information you may find useful," the frog waited with hopeful, bated breath for the youkai prince to give him leave to speak again...or to slash him to ribbons with his deadly claws. He released a sigh of relief when Sesshoumaru growled a single word.  
  
"Proceed."  
  
Taking a deep breath (thankful he could still breath at all-through his mouth and not his throat), Routarou began to speak of all the happenings at Naraku's fortress he could dredge from the depths of his memory; it's location (though he could not pinpoint it exactly due to a spell), the barrier, force size, weapons, how there had been no recent movement in months...until the order for this attack.  
  
Sesshoumaru listened to the frog rattle on aimlessly with barely suppressed annoyance, only holding back his desire to crush the life out of the irritating insect by focusing on the bits and pieces of actual useful information slowly trickling through the wandering speech. When the slimy youkai mentioned a Shikon shard, though, Kagome jumped on the new topic.  
  
Sesshoumaru had no use for the jewel, but he was well aware of his half brother's obsession-and the human miko's strange ability to see the shards. He didn't know what her exact relationship to the Shikon no Tama was, but his recent dreaming made it obvious she was intimately related to it in some mysterious way. Of course she would be interested in any mention of it, especially given Naraku's penchant for chasing her down to gain more of the aggravating things.  
  
"You mentioned Naraku is searching for a jewel shard...?" she broke in, prompting the still-rambling frog onto a more productive path.  
  
At the mention of the Shikon, Routarou froze as if suddenly realizing what he had let slip past his quivering lips. His round eyes shifted uneasily from side to side, as if searching for an avenue of escape. Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed to golden slits at the telling reaction of the groveling scum.  
  
Why does this subject make him want to flee? I can smell his utter terror, he speculated.  
  
The demon lord had no interest in hearing about Naraku's search for the Shikon, but Kagome was suddenly animated, even going so far as to crouch down before the little blob to repeat her question.  
  
Has the woman no sense? Sesshoumaru wondered, not for the first time.  
  
Ignoring the cold sweep of fear that she would disregard her own safety so easily, he reached down and hauled her up by her arm, creating a safe amount of distance between herself and the youkai who, despite his seemingly harmless appearance, was still an enemy.  
  
Unfortunately, his hard yank caused Kagome to stumble and fall into the youkai lord's chest. At the contact with his hard armor, she gasped in pain, positive she would be sporting a bruise on her cheek tomorrow from the harsh knock against a (thankfully rounded) spike.  
  
Sesshoumaru went rigid the instant he felt Kagome's lithe body against his, but he couldn't make himself release her. Her warm, comforting scent wrapped around his senses, and it was all the taiyoukai could do not to give in to the urges of his suddenly clamoring male instincts.  
  
A host of memories and sensations, experienced in a dream night after night, swirled and eddied through his mind, heating his blood to dangerous temperatures. With a last, supreme effort of will and a low growl of frustration, Sesshoumaru managed to shove the human woman away from him, ignoring how delicious the reality of her had felt against him.  
  
"Do not be so foolish as to step close to him again," he snarled, the individual words barely audible amid the animal growl clawing up from his chest, "He is still the enemy. Do not forget it, for I will not be pleased if I have to come to your assistance...again."  
  
With that, he stalked a few paces away from her and turned his back on the temptation she presented with her raven hair fluttering around her flushed cheeks, eyes sparkling with suppressed desire...  
  
Has she been dreaming, as well? He wondered, not certain if he enjoyed the possibility that they may have shared such heated dreams. He had acted most unlike himself in them, after all.  
  
Sesshoumaru dismissed these thoughts in favor of concentrating on the conversation she was carrying on with the amphibious runt.  
  
"Routarou," she began in a tone of gentle coaxing, trying to put the terrified youkai as much at ease as possible, "you said Naraku is still searching for shards. Does that mean the Shikon no Tama is still not complete?"  
  
At the frog youkai's nod of agreement, Kagome pursed her lips in thought for a moment, analyzing the possible meanings, thankful that this new information seemed to point to the probability that Naraku had nothing to do with the problems they were experiencing with Tetsusaiga. She was also ecstatic that the race to complete the Shikon no Tama was not over...yet.  
  
"Ano..." Routarou cleared his throat. Seeing as how the human was interested in information about the jewel, he had one last piece to offer. It just may be the one to save his life...or prevent a maiming. "If you want to know about shards, I do have some information given to me by my partner. My former partner, that is," he corrected himself sullenly.  
  
Just the memory of Shino's gory carcass made Routarou rethink his plan to tell these two all, suddenly fearful that Naraku could hear every words he said, would know of his betrayal and hunt him down... But one more glance at the stiffly elegant figure of the Demon Lord of the Western Lands settled his mind.  
  
This was the most immediate danger to his own hide, and he had no doubt the pristine prince would slice him in half if he so much as breathed wrong. Decided now, Routarou continued.  
  
"Shino was sent out by Naraku to gather information on any possible location of the last Shikon shard. I believe it is the last one Naraku needs to complete the jewel. Shino traveled for a long time, following rumors, and finally returned to the castle three days ago," the frog paused in his recitation, uncertain how his vague offering would be received, but decided he had nothing to lose.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he blurted out in a rush, "Shino heard only one rumor that he could not disprove. A strange wise man-a youkai-who lives in an enchanted lake said he knew the location of the last piece, but that he knew of only one who could actually reach it. The wise man said, 'The final Shikon shard lies between this world and the next world. Only the one who has crossed the border before can reach it'. "  
  
Silence reigned in the forest while Routarou's words sank in to Kagome's brain. A terrifying and exciting idea began to form in her mind, but she was interrupted by Sesshoumaru's cutting voice.  
  
"If Naraku knows the location of the final shard, then why did he attack the miko?"  
  
Routarou jumped at the demon prince's sudden resurgence into the conversation-which was no doubt soon to revert to an interrogation if he didn't answer quickly.  
  
"Naraku believes Inuyasha has it," he stammered out, then offered another tidbit, flicking his eyes apprehensively to Kagome, "and Kagura-dono and Kohaku-dono were under orders to bring miko-sama back to him-alive."  
  
Sesshoumaru's gaze slid over to Kagome, who suddenly paled at the reminder of how Naraku's kugutsu had almost captured her. He felt the rage rise again within him that the bastard would dare to lay claim to anything that was his.  
  
Restraining himself with great effort, he instead concentrating on squeezing as much intelligence from the toad as possible. Then he would slice him into mulch. The taiyoukai's eyes narrowed and he moved closer to Kagome in an unconscious movement of protection.  
  
"For what purpose does Naraku desire the miko?" he demanded silkily.  
  
"I d-don't know, waka-gimi," Routarou stuttered, shaking and sweating anew under the burning force of the demon lord's glare, "He didn't say why, only that he had plans for her."  
  
Sesshoumaru was incensed at this lack of knowledge, and Routarou could see his own death in the youkai prince's glowing eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and waited to feel the burning slash of claws across his nape, severing his green head from his lumpy body, eyes round and bulging sightlessly while his body twitched in its death throes...  
  
But none of that happened. As he became aware of his surroundings once again, Routarou heard the human woman-the miko-arguing with the taiyoukai. He sucked in a breath at her incredible courage-or her increadible madness. Surely the Western Lord would silence her impertinence by ripping out her tongue?!?  
  
But none of the bloody violence he was certain would be forthcoming happened. Before his amazed eyes, Routarou saw the tiny woman square off before the towering demon, standing toe-to-toe with him as she argued some point with increasing volume. The top of her head barely reached the tall man's shoulder.  
  
"We have to get to that shard before Naraku does!" she was crying impassionedly. "You know what will happen if he completes the Shikon no Tama before we can stop him. Besides," she continued in what she hoped was a persuasive manner, "I think I know where it is."  
  
"I care not for the jewel," he returned dispassionately. "Once you fulfill your bargain with me, you are free to go your own way and waste your time and energy for the sake of a worthless piece of stone."  
  
He wanted to say 'for my worthless brother', but bit back the scathing-and revealing-words.  
  
"If you want to defeat Naraku, then it's in your best interests, as well, to stop him from completing the Shikon!" Kagome cried.  
  
She didn't understand why the taiyoukai couldn't see what a danger Naraku with the full power of the Shikon would be. He would become undefeatable!  
  
"As it is, you barely escaped him last time, when he tried to absorb your body. And you wouldn't have if it wasn't for Inuyasha!" she twisted that particular knife a little, hoping to elicit a reaction from the stoic man facing her.  
  
She didn't expect the form that reaction would take, though.  
  
'Be careful what you wish for', isn't that what Mama always warned me of? She thought wildly, positive her mother did not have irate youkai princes in mind while tendering that bit of homespun wisdom.  
  
An irate youkai prince who was suddenly looming over her, hot breath fanning her cheeks. He had backed the reckless miko up against a nearby tree, and his face was so close to hers she could clearly see every detail of his features. His eyes aren't completely gold, she realized, suddenly and completely distracted by the sight of six feet of provoked, beautiful youkai looming before her. They have darker rings of bronze around them...and flecks of silver...And his markings...  
  
Kagome was powerless to resist the urge to reach up and trace the smooth curve of ultramarine decorating the pale skin under his white hair, then the vermilion stripes that swept gracefully along each lean cheekbone in pairs. She knew the stripes were some sort of natural markings for Inuyasha developed a rough version of them during his transformations to full youkai. The crescent was a different matter, though, and Kagome wondered if it had been forced upon him by some means of magic or tattooing, like the demon variation of a caste mark.  
  
Sesshoumaru was enraged that she would doubt his prowess in battle-and entranced by Kagome's nearness. He was completely undone, caught in a trap of his own making. He had forced his body into dangerous, achingly close proximity to hers by leaning in entirely too close. He breathed in her delicate scent.  
  
Just as he had been able to gain the tiniest shred of self-control to pull away, she had reached out a hand to brush delicate fingertips against his skin. She followed the path of his birth-mark, engraved upon his skin during an ancient ceremony when he had reached his manhood. The special, enchanted pigments had been mixed with his father's blood as a proclamation to all who saw him of his status as eldest son and heir to the Great Demon Inutaisho.  
  
While the proud taiyoukai inside him roared in fury that the wench would dare touch the proof of his lineage, Sesshoumaru couldn't resist the urge to close his eyes and savor the sweet feel of her skin on his.  
  
He knew that her caress was motivated less by desire and more by curiosity, but he still allowed himself to revel in the rare moment of tactile contact. Not even Rin dared to touch him in such a manner.  
  
Of course, he reminded himself wryly, she is not tall enough to reach my face. Yet.  
  
The reminder that Rin was a growing child-a growing human child with a short life span-drew an unfortunate parallel to the woman-again human- tracing gentle patterns across his sensitized skin.  
  
Human. She is human. The thought did not act like the bucket of ice water he had hoped it would, but it did give him just enough strength to pull back from her touch slightly.  
  
When her hand followed, as if loath to leave off exploring his fine brows and smooth skin, Sesshoumaru could not resist giving in to one more demand of his subconscious desires. Turning his face into Kagome's small palm, he pressed his lips to the soft skin there, more a brush across the center of her hand as he pulled away than a firm and deliberate kiss.  
  
The miko felt his intention, however, and her wide, startled eyes locked onto his molten gold ones, the deep, liquid pools threatening to reach up and drown him if he did not distance himself-quickly.  
  
The youkai lord took one more step back, his armor no longer brushing against Kagome's chest, leaving her free to move away. She did not, but remained rooted to the spot, a warm blush staining the alabaster skin of her cheeks.  
  
At the sound of a rustle of leaves, Sesshoumaru snapped his head to the side, noting with a sinking feeling that the groveling frog Routarou had been silent witness to his deplorable and highly embarrassing lack of restraint around Kagome. He considered simply lashing out with his youki whip, thus ending the threat to his reputation.  
  
'Dead men tell no tales', he thought maliciously, isn't that what humans are fond of saying?  
  
But one sideways glance at Kagome, still gazing up at him with a slightly glazed expression, and Sesshoumaru knew he could not kill the wart in front of her. Some unknown emotion shimmering in her eyes stayed his hand, and it reminded him uncomfortably of the way Rin looked up at him after he had done some unknown thing which the child viewed as a great service for some reason. Like he was a hero instead of the self-serving man he knew himself to be.  
  
As a result of his damnable and completely unexplainable debilitation in the face of the miko's silent plea, Sesshoumaru waved a hand at the trembling frog, wordlessly dismissing him from his presence.  
  
Routarou wasted no time second-guessing the youkai lord's sudden magnanimous act and quickly scrabbled to his feet, dashing headlong in whichever direction took his rotund little body the polar opposite of the notoriously merciless Western Lord.  
  
Watching the furtive and desperate retreat of what should have been his rightful prey, the taiyoukai shifted slightly on his feet, sighing inwardly at his growing weakness, first for Rin's huge eyes, and now for this aggravatingly argumentative wench.  
  
Which reminds me...weren't we discussing something a moment ago?  
  
To think that he, Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands, could give in to distraction to the point of losing track of a thought...! In retaliation for something the youkai was entirely certain was the fault of the woman standing, still a bit dazed, before him, he narrowed his amber gaze on her. He was certain the gold glare would intimidate and impress upon her his dangerousness.  
  
Kagome simply raised her brows slightly and cocked her head to the side, saying, "What?"  
  
Frustrated-and somehow not surprised-that his patented menacing scowl did not seem to affect the fresh beauty before him, he allowed a low growl to slide up his throat. That would be certain to remind her of his superiority, thus putting the bothersome wench firmly in her place: behind him by three paces at all times.  
  
"Does this mean that you are going to help us find the last shard?" she asked unexpectedly.  
  
This was not the reaction she was supposed to give! She was supposed to be quaking in terror and addressing him with all of the respect due his station-if he gave her leave to address him at all!  
  
Did you really expect her to bow down before you, as a servant bows before her master, after the way you just plastered yourself to her body? A snide little voice nettled him.  
  
Damn, he thought in annoyance, that is a valid point.  
  
And, as much as he would have liked to instruct Kagome forthwith on the errors of her attitude, he couldn't bring himself to actually break the fragile bond that was burgeoning between them. He wasn't sure what that tenuous tie was, but it comforted him and excited him in ways he never thought possible. He wanted to see if it would grow with a need bordering on desperation. Not that he intended to nurture or encourage it, mind you, but if it happened, and if it helped him to control the miko...then who was he to argue? It would only better serve his purposes later on.  
  
Relaxing his tense stance, Sesshoumaru deigned to give Kagome a brief nod, acknowledging his intent to help her find this final Shikon fragment. He had one thing to say on her assumption that he would be accompanying the entire group on this unexpected detour.  
  
"I will locate this jewel shard, but," his severe tone cut off Kagome's birthing smile of relief, "this will be a task for you and I only. I refuse to suffer Inuyasha's idiotic company, as he would only complicate matters and get in my way."  
  
'My way', Kagome noted with disappointment, not 'our way'. And I thought that maybe we could be friends...especially after what just happened.  
  
She had a brief moment of depression, then her usual optimistic nature asserted itself and she perked up.  
  
But I can always try, try, try! She nodded to herself in determination, then turned to start back to the battlefield.  
  
In an instant, Sesshoumaru was before her, a fierce expression on his face.  
  
"Just where do you think you are going, wench?" he demanded icily.  
  
Kagome sighed at his reversion back into Ice Prince mode, but said patiently, "To tell Inuyasha and the others where we are going, and to see if maybe they have some insight into the new information Routarou gave us."  
  
A bubble of rage rose in the youkai lord's chest. She would run back to his thrice-cursed half brother at the first opportunity? She did not trust in his ability to fulfil this task without the hindrance of the hanyou, and instead felt the need to have Inuyasha as backup in case he failed? She was his! She had struck a pact with him that made it so!  
  
He knew he was probably overreacting to her natural inclination to share information with her companions, but the youkai lord could not seem to stop himself from asserting his claim over her-by demonstrating his control over her.  
  
It seems to be the only control you are able to display when it comes to this one human female, that damned annoying, snide little voice whispered in his ear.  
  
He imagined impaling it on Toukijin. It shut up...for the time being.  
  
"You will not," he stated concisely. "Do not forget, miko," the taiyoukai stressed the word, as if to place emphasis on their differences, "you have an obligation to fulfill." And you are mine. "Be grateful I am allowing this ridiculous errand at all."  
  
"That's another thing," she huffed in rising aggravation, "just what do you need me so desperately for, anyway?"  
  
A multitude of different answers exploded to the forefront of his mind at her unconsciously suggestive phrasing, but none of them held any bearing on his actual goal so he held them back. Instead, he turned a silent, yet intense, gaze on her flushed face, his repressed longings clearly visible in the depths of his topaz eyes. They blazed with a fierce heat.  
  
All he said, however, was, "That is not your concern at this moment."  
  
When the incensed miko stuttered out, "Not my concern-?", against his usual nature he conceded a small allowance.  
  
"I will, of course, instruct you on your responsibility to me when the time is right."  
  
If he were a lesser being, the chilling look Kagome sent him would have turned him to ice-or stone, but he simply shrugged it off as he shrugged off the unease he experienced at being so harsh with her. He didn't want to be harsh with her. He wanted to be gentle, to prove to her that he wasn't the ruthless, cold-blooded predator she thought him to be. Well, not always, anyway. But his pride and circumstances demanded nothing less than her full cooperation with his objectives, and the easiest path to gain that cooperation was to instill obedience.  
  
A small piece of him wilted at that necessity, but all he had to do was remind himself of his goal, control of Tetsusaiga and peace in his lands, to squelch the intensifying weakness.  
  
He ignored that snide little voice he had just murdered, which whispered something along the lines of 'if you had truly killed that weakness, you would not have given in to the girl's request to find the shard at all'.  
  
Dammit, it was right-again. And he couldn't find more than a shred of remorse over his capitulation, either. I have been cursed, he realized bleakly, a curl of sardonic amusement moving through his mind.  
  
But as he turned once more into the depths of the forest-heading toward the destination Kagome gave-her scent wrapped around him and he couldn't help but notice that his step became lighter.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Endnotes: -----------------------  
  
[i]. Waka-gimi: Young lord, or prince.  
  
Sess: What was that all about during the legal notice? I have not, and never will be, a 'young goat'. *looks confused* And what is a 'mass of christ'?  
  
TT: What are you talking about, you lunatic mutt?  
  
Sess: *growls* The disclaimer, woman!  
  
TT: Oh, that! You mean the 'kid at Christmas' comment? *shrugs* I was just telling it as I saw it.  
  
Sess: And that explains everything, you delusional-  
  
TT: Hey!  
  
Sess: *smirks* 'Hay is for horses'.  
  
TT: Huh? *rolls eyes* And they say I'm crazy... 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Don't own it. *sob, whimper, sniffle, moan*  
  
Previously:  
  
A small piece of him wilted at that necessity, but all he had to do was remind himself of his goal, control of Tetsusaiga and peace in his lands, to squelch the intensifying weakness.  
  
He ignored that snide little voice he had just murdered, which whispered something along the lines of 'if you had truly killed that weakness, you would not have given in to the girl's request to find the shard at all'.  
  
Dammit, it was right-again. And he couldn't find more than a shred of remorse over his capitulation, either.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 10  
  
The silence was deafening in its thick and oppressive weight. No one in the spacious room dared to so much as breathe-even the breeze seemed to be halted at the open shoji, afraid to trespass upon the territory of whatever wielded such amazing viciously jaki.  
  
Against her will, Kagura shuddered at the imminent threat of bloody violence.  
  
No, she thought to herself dismally, Naraku would not waste the energy and simply crush my heart.  
  
Cold sweat trickled between her shoulder blades as the stillness lengthened to unbearable proportions.  
  
Just as the wind user thought that her nerves would snap from the strain of waiting, Naraku shifted on the raised dias he was seated on. The movement was so slight as to be almost unnoticeable, but as keenly tuned as her senses were to every nuance of her enemy and master, the soft rustle of silk sounded like the loud scrape of a knife on bone to her tense ears.  
  
Though she gave no outward appearance of apprehension, her shoulders tightened slightly at the warning of imminent danger. Naraku was about to react to the news she had delivered. She and Kohaku had failed him, letting the miko escape the battle just past. They had not gained any new information on whether or not the group had located any new shards, and that bastard Sesshoumaru had suddenly appeared, decimating all but a handful of the youkai army sent to destroy the hanyou and his companions.  
  
And to top of her humiliating defeat at the hands of a half-wit mongrel and his human friends, Kagura had to give a report to her lord and master. Even though he was present at the scene, courtesy of his puppet.  
  
A niggle of cold satisfaction swirled through Kagura as she remembered that she was not the only one defeated today-Naraku's kugutsu had been slaughtered by the demon lord, along with half his army. She fought to keep the tiny smile threatening to curve her lips, only managing the feat by reminding herself that she was still in Naraku's presence...and he had yet to deliver his punishment for failure.  
  
For his part, Naraku was not giving much thought to punishing Kagura and Kohaku. It was enough that they suffered the weight of failure on the battlefield. He had no doubts that the thoughts and fears running through Kagura's mind were almost as creative as anything he could mete out at this time. Let her stew for a bit, then he would turn his thoughts to how to deal with her.  
  
Some scrupulously logical portion of his brain acknowledged that, to her credit, Kagura's youkai legions had been winning the battle while he himself was off entertaining the half-breed via his puppet. A scowl pulled at Naraku's handsome features when he recalled the reason the tide had turned. It was when that cursed pompous Sesshoumaru had unexpectedly joined in the fray that everything had gone to hell.  
  
Damn! He thought to himself, crimson eyes glowing with the vicious force of his hatred for the youkai lord. What the hell was Sesshoumaru doing there, anyway? Was he there to steal Tetsusaiga?  
  
Naraku thought on that possibility for a moment, but dismissed it rather quickly.  
  
No, if that were truly the case, then why bother to save the miko? She has nothing to do with the Fang, other than the fact that she follows Inuyasha.  
  
A sudden idea occurred to him, and his brows raised in surprise at the new direction his speculations took him in.  
  
Unless...her powers are expanding beyond simply being able to detect the Shikon no Tama...? Does he desire the miko's powers for himself? To use against me? Or...could Sesshoumaru have developed a taste for something other than his father's fang? Does he desire the Shikon for himself?  
  
It did not fit with the picture of the coldly unemotional and disturbingly honor-bound taiyoukai Naraku had developed in his mind through years of personal interaction and remote observation.  
  
But, if he found a lead to the final Shikon shard's location, he thought to himself with growing alarm, then it would explain his sudden interest in the little miko, as the only use someone as boringly shortsighted as him would be as a shard detector.  
  
"Kagura," he spoke sharply, even in his growing alarm enjoying the way she jumped at the sound of his voice, "you and I will discuss your dismal lack of reliability at a later time."  
  
Kagura relaxed slightly, relieved to be spared a painful reassertion of Naraku's dominion over herself-and her heart-for the time being. She knew, though, that this would only give the sadistic being more time with which to prepare even greater and more effective punishments.  
  
"Bring Kanna to me. I have a use for her. You will wait for further instructions."  
  
When Kagura turned to carry out his orders, Naraku's voice, rich with threat, rolled out of the dimness of the shadows which seemed to cloak him in perpetual darkness, "And do not stray from the grounds, or I will be forced to remind you of your origins."  
  
The wind-user paled at the implicit threat of reabsorption, then nodded her head jerkily and left the room.  
  
Naraku settled himself more comfortably in his seat, resting his arm casually on the wooden stand by his side. Once again, he adopted a pose of nonchalance, an air of consanguinity flowing out around him like a cloak, a refreshing change from his previous malicious miasma despite the falseness of his attitude.  
  
He was completely composed when Kanna made her way quietly into the room, even though Naraku knew his aura did not effect the emotionless white youkai.  
  
He smirked slightly. The girl-child form was one of his better ideas for a detachment, but sometimes he grew frustrated that she never showed any hint of reaction to anything that occurred around her. But she was a true reflection of the qualities he most prized in a slave: unaffected by anything except the instinct to obey her 'father', and no free will of her own to mar the smooth perfection of her emotionless face-unlike Kagura, the deceitful bitch.  
  
No, Kanna was the ideal daughter. Dutiful, quiet, obedient, and best of all, eminently useful.  
  
Thus were his thoughts, so that when Kanna finally entered the room, he bestowed a rare smile on his offspring. As expected, it was lost on her, for she did not show any reaction to the extraordinary expression on her creator's face. She simply paced to stand before him, her ever-present mirror held before her like a shield.  
  
"Show me Inuyasha," he commanded softly, "I wish to see his broken and bloody body again...watch as the reincarnate weeps over his lifeless form..."  
  
Kanna inhaled softly, as if gathering her strength, then rotated the round mirror slightly, as if tuning a radio knob. Immediately, the surface reflected the recent battle scene-a round portal into a foreign world of blood and destruction, pain and death...Naraku felt a tremor of excitement trip down his spine at the sight of trees ripped from the earth, the ground churned into mud red with gore. Ah, the beauty of death, he thought with an inner sigh. But the sight that met his startled crimson gaze caused him to tremble in rage.  
  
The hanyou was indeed bloody, but far from dead. In fact, if he were to judge by the agitated ranting Inuyasha seemed to be indulging in at the moment, Naraku could only conclude the cursed half breed was in the best of health.  
  
How did...? What...? the thoughts stuttered in his mind, tripping over themselves in his shock to make sense of the reality of Inuyasha, alive and well.  
  
With a snarl of fury, the most likely answer came blasting to the forefront of his benumbed brain, ripping through all confusion in a haze of rising red rage.  
  
"The miko!" Naraku seethed. "I do not know how she accomplished such a thing, but her powers have obviously expanded far beyond what even Kikyou had possessed."  
  
The idea stoked his already sparked interest in the reincarnation of his one fleshly obsession, and the fire of possessiveness flared into an all- consuming inferno.  
  
I must have her...I must command this power of hers, he vowed to himself, the manic light of greed making his claret-colored eyes seem to glow like embers in the dying daylight.  
  
Naraku's fingers itched to trace patterns on her delicate, ivory flesh-to mark her as his own with lips and teeth and bruises and blood.  
  
"Show me the miko," he commanded Kanna.  
  
The colorless youkai silently did as requested, and the images on her mirror shifted.  
  
At first, all the watchers could see was the dim, spangled shade of the forest. Then, she became visible, standing in a shaft of fading sunlight, dust motes drifting around her like a host of tiny fairies come to pay homage.  
  
Naraku sucked in an involuntary breath as the hazy light limned her lithe figure with hazy, molten gold.  
  
Such perfection, he thought with the same reverence he reserved for the Shikon no Tama. Power and beauty to tempt even the most mighty creature.  
  
A flash of white caught his attention, and the villain let loose a noise of surprise, his gaze narrowing in silent speculation.  
  
Yes indeed, he thought in reference to his last observation, enough to tempt even the Lord of the Western Lands himself.  
  
An anticipatory grin split the handsome features of his face, and sharp teeth flashed whitely in the thickening gloom of the room.  
  
I believe this temptress will have multiple uses for me.  
  
While his sadistic fantasies played out in the back of his mind, Naraku noted the direction the unusual pair were traveling in, and returned to observing the hanyou and his remaining companions. They were all headed in the same north-easterly direction-Naraku had more than a fair idea of their destination, though he wondered what it had to do with the search for the Shikon-with Inuyasha obviously pushing the humans to be faster.  
  
No doubt anxious to get his little miko back. Did Sesshoumaru steal the wench? He wondered absently. Not that it matters much how she came to be in his company, but it would be most unusual if she went willingly.  
  
After a few more silent minutes of watching the steady reflection of events occurring miles away from his hidden retreat, Naraku dismissed Kanna.  
  
Settling against the frame of the slightly opened outside shoji, he propped his arm on an upraised knee in his favorite posture of noble contemplation and stared out at the brilliant colors of fading day.  
  
"Ah, Inuyasha, you make it so easy to gather all of little eggs into one basket by following the woman." A small, grim smile tilted his sculpted lips at the corners.  
  
"You and your esteemed brother think you have hidden from me everything that goes on in your pitiful little brains." His expression hardened and his eyes glinted in the twilight.  
  
"You have no conception of all the knowledge I possess...and soon, I will possess those things which you both hold so very dear..."  
  
As the last light of the sun faded from the edge of the world, the soft sound of laughter could be heard drifting into the night on the rising wind. A storm was brewing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Inuyasha!" Sango called from the back of Kirara. The fire cat was lagging behind, obviously exhausted from the combined exertion of a pitched battle followed immediately by this rushed chase over rough country.  
  
"We have to stop for the night, Inuyasha! Kirara won't be able to go much farther."  
  
Inuyasha made no response to the taijiya's logic, but did slow down enough to cast an appraising eye over the transformed youkai. True to Sango's word, Kirara did indeed seem much the worse for wear. Her eyes gleamed dully in the lowering sunlight, and her coat was matted with dried blood. Inuyasha frowned. Some of it appeared to be fresh. When did Kirara get hurt? He thought with a wash of guilt.  
  
A scowl crossed his handsome features as he nodded to the humans perched upon the fire cat's back, agreeing curtly to the plea to make camp. Impatience and fear washed over him, though, as he thought of all the time they would waste in their effort to find Kagome before his ruthless brother did anything to harm her.  
  
If he touches one hair on her head...Inuyasha let the silent threat dangle in his mind, afraid to play out his violent revenge fantasies, even to himself. His control was tenuous enough as it was without the added spark his wild imagination could set to the dry tinder of his smoldering rage.  
  
Miroku and Sango remained quiet as they went about the routine tasks required for setting up a hasty camp. A nearby stream offered cool, clean water for tending their wounds, so the humans set about washing the various slashes and scrapes. For once, Miroku kept his hands to himself, a sure sign of his profound worry for Kagome.  
  
Later, when everyone was grouped around the small, smokeless fire, the monk broached the subject weighing heavily on everyone's minds.  
  
Clearing his throat, he began hesitantly, "Inuyasha, I've been meaning to ask you," he paused at the harsh glare the hanyou pinned him with. Clenching his fists, Miroku plowed ahead, "what do you think Sesshoumaru- sama wants with Kagome?"  
  
At the red tide of blood rising in his tanned cheeks, Sango, Miroku, and Shippou pulled back a bit in fear of the imminent explosion of fury from Inuyasha.  
  
Just as suddenly as his ire ignited, it faded, leaving the golden-eyed hanyou with slumped shoulders and drooping head. He appeared to have collapsed in on himself slightly, as if he had lost some vital internal support.  
  
Perhaps he has, thought Miroku. Kagome-sama has been taken from him before. But even though it was to save his life, this time...she left him willingly. And that, the holy man realized, made the already burdened man's load of guilt even heavier. First Kikyou-sama, and now Kagome-sama...  
  
The object of the houshi's introspection stirred himself, though his silver hair still shielded his eyes from view.  
  
"I don't know exactly what that bastard wants Kagome for," he admitted in a voice rough with emotion, "but you can bet it has something to do with the Tetsusaiga."  
  
Sango gasped. "Do you think he knows about what has been happening with the sword? About how it isn't performing as it should?"  
  
Inuyasha grimaced at the reminder, but shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"How should I know what the hell my brother is thinking-besides 'kill Inuyasha'?" he retorted with more of his trademark gruffness, but softened the rude tone with, "But I think it's likely he knows something, and has come to take advantage of Kagome's role in it."  
  
Sango nodded her head in depressed agreement, absently stroking Kirara's soft fur for comfort.  
  
Miroku let the silence stretch out for a moment more before bringing up the other worry he had.  
  
In a voice, firm with purpose despite the soft tone, he said, "Do you think Sesshoumaru-sama had anything to do with why Tetsusaiga lost it's transformation during the battle today?"  
  
Inuyasha stiffened, his head snapping up to lock his amber gaze on the monk. Miroku could see the remembered anger burning in the golden depths, but he also recognized the fear his friend experienced when he had been unable to reach Kagome.  
  
No, not 'fear', he corrected himself, utter terror.  
  
"What are you saying, priest?" the hanyou snapped out, "You think that Sesshoumaru made Tetsusaiga change back so he could save Kagome himself, or that I would get killed?" He shook his head in contempt of that theory. "It's not like that bastard to let someone else kill me-he wants to do it himself so badly he can taste it!"  
  
Even as he said this, though, a traitorous thought wormed its way though his mind. If he wants you dead so badly, then why did he let Kagome convince him to heal you with Tenseiga?  
  
Inuyasha didn't know what thought unsettled him more: actually dying, or being brought back from the brink of death by his hated brother. These uncomfortable revelations were scattered when Miroku presented his own theory for Tetsusaiga's behavior.  
  
"Actually," he said in a tone of deep contemplation, "I don't think Sesshoumaru-sama had anything to do with transforming your sword-though by his sudden appearance and 'request' for Kagome-sama's assistance, it is likely he knows something. And it also remains to be seen whether or not Naraku had a hand in it." A deep growl laced the monk's words at the mention of the evil creature who cursed his grandfather-and ultimately him.  
  
"What do you mean, houshi-sama?" Sango asked quietly.  
  
"I mean, if we take into account Kaede-sama and Toutousai's theories on the relationship between Kagome-sama, the Shikon no Tama, and Tetsusaiga, we can conclude a very different cause for the Fang's lost transformation."  
  
When all eyes were riveted to him, Miroku laid out his idea. "Inuyasha, Tetsusaiga lost its demon blade form right after Kagome-sama purified all of those youkai, correct?"  
  
When the hanyou gave a reluctant nod of confirmation, Miroku settled back onto his elbows, legs stretched before him, his posture screaming confidence in his conclusions. "Then Kagome-sama's massive output of energy drained the Tetsusaiga, as well, causing the reversion. I imagine such an outpouring of purifying force also drained some of your youryoku, as well, Inuyasha." Miroku forbore to mention that, if everything connected to the Shikon no Tama and Kagome was tapped, then Sesshoumaru was an unwilling donor of energy, as well.  
  
Just because the circumspect monk didn't voice it, though, didn't mean Inuyasha couldn't put the pieces together...and draw conclusions that went beyond the course of the battle just past.  
  
The hanyou remembered all Kagome had told them of her strange, repetitive dreams, and he felt a growl work its way up his throat. Miroku, Sango, and Shippou fell blessedly silent, letting their exhausted bodies slip into healing, revitalizing sleep while Inuyasha stayed awake and stewed.  
  
He welcomed the cleansing power of his betrayed fury that washed away the debilitating guilt and fear for his friend, instead concentrating on the realization that Kagome had known all along that the other man in her dreams was his pompous, arrogant, blood-thirsty, back-stabbing brother.  
  
What the hell is she doing dreaming of Sesshoumaru?!? he ranted wildly.  
  
A sudden fear gripped him that Kagome was forming a personal bond of some sort with Sesshoumaru-one that excluded him. His heart wrenched in his chest at the thought that he could lose her because of a dammed dream.  
  
Inuyasha fell into a cycle of increasingly vicious and horrifying imaginings, all revolving around one thought: Sesshoumaru probably knew something about what was happening to the Tetsusaiga, which meant that he probably knew about Kagome's dream.  
  
And she was with him now-alone.  
  
Oh, gods, Inuyasha thought, dropping his head into his hands in despair, please, I don't want to lose her.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sess: *sneering at Inu* Yes! You will forfeit your wench's affections to me!  
  
Inu: *growls and swings claws at Sess* Like hell I will!  
  
TT: *sweatdrops* Um, guys? Could you maybe keep the property damage to a minimum?  
  
*Inu and Sess keep fighting. Both are using swords now*  
  
TT: *sigh* Well, I guess there's no help for it. Time for my secret weapon. *raises voice* Sit, boys!  
  
*Inu and Sess crash to ground*  
  
Inu & Sess: What the hell...?!? How did you do that?  
  
TT: I had my lawyers work it into your contracts. *sighs happily* Ah, the power of justice.  
  
Sess: What does justice have to do with lawyers?  
  
TT: Hmm...good point.  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Really quick...just to explain my thinking about why Naraku would draw the (erroneous) conclusion that Kagome was responsible for Inuyasha's healing. Upon due reflection (meaning I thought about it for a few minutes), I don't remember Naraku ever learning of Tenseiga's special power. So, if the spider doesn't have all of the facts (a rare occurrence, indeed), then he would have to go with the next obvious conclusion: Kagome's miko abilities, probably powered by the Shikon itself (remember, he already suspects this link).  
  
Oh! And 'youryoku' is literally 'youkai power'.  
  
Okay, so there it is. I know it was shorted than usual, but I had to stop it there or end up going on and on and on for miles. Tell me what you think! (In other words, review me!)  
  
Review Responses:  
  
FF.net:  
  
The Fallen Angel of Death: *laughs* Yes, well, if I had a nickel for every time I've been told I'm strange...let's just say I really would own Inuyasha! (Or at least Sesshoumaru) Let me know if you go on crusade against the 'establishment' ;p...I'll follow you anywhere, Master! Thanks for the love *huggles*!  
  
Rain of Stars: Damn demons and their distracting...um, 'ness'! I perfectly understand why you got side-tracked from the awarding of my cookie-Hell, I even sympathize (I do have to share a set with him)! But, Sess running around in nothing but a pair of black ballet tights (what do you want, it was the only thing I could find for him to wear...I swear!)...well, it's putting this project behind. *sigh* So, if you turn over his wardrobe, I won't have to sic Sess on you. Er, that's not a very convincing threat, is it? Let's try that again: If you turn over his wardrobe, I won't have to sic my lawyers on you. There! That's much better! (P.S.: Could you maybe leave out whatever underwear he had? I've always wanted to know of he's a boxers or briefs man, and the best way to find out is to have to take him shopping!) Oh! And Inuyasha got 'sat' into Australia for eating MY COOKIES! So, he won't be coming around for, oh, about 4 days or so. Just thought I'd warn you! *hugs*  
  
Aki no Yume: *sighs and wipes away tear* Ah, someone who understands me! *hugs* Yes, writing in a new character is such a screw-up to a well-formed plot! Of course, that would be a better reason if I truly had a well-formed plot-I'm half making this up as I go, and events may change without notice. (Besides, inserting an 'outside' character is just a creative pain in the ass-'if it ain't broke, don't fix it'.Course, that kind of precludes the whole Sess/Kag romance, but...hey, what can you do when you crave that hot demon body?) I hope this gave you a little more Naraku insight, not that we really want to know what's going on in his head: 'kill Inuyasha, take over the world, absorb more youkai, kill Sesshoumaru, kill Kikyou/Kagome, lust after Kikyou/Kagome...' I think you get the point. Thanks for the review, and look for some more Sess/Kag interaction next chapter-and maybe even Sess/Inu confrontation!  
  
Jaredono: *squeals in delight, hugs* Wai! Wai! Hisashiburi da ne! Wow! I've missed you! Of course, that's my own fault for not updating Force of Destiny...but, we won't dwell on that! I'm so glad you understand, though! And of course, as soon as I officially put it on hold, I got this mad desire to write some more. Maybe I'm suffering from performance anxiety? *snicker, twitch* Sorry...couldn't help that. You're the only reviewer who I know for certain is a male, so...just had to sneak that in. Sorry if that offended you, but my husband always seems to think it's a funny joke...as long as it's not said in reference to him! Aaannnnyway, yeah, I've been an Inuyasha fan long before I ever heard of Furuba, but never had the inspiration to write a fic. But now...Gah! Brainstorm overload! Don't worry, I've even got ideas for FB, but those won't be posted until this is done-unless it's another one-shot like Using Your Head. And, you need to be my beta! OMG! I COMPLETELY forgot about Rin! (Well, what hot-blooded woman/gay man wouldn't when dealing with Sess?) First I forget about Shigure, now that cute little girl! Not to fear, she's being taken care of by the loveable, huggable Jaken *snicker, snort*. Ahem! I mean...I'll take care of that little detail. *cough* Thanks for saving my lazy ass from another plot hole. Ugh. Questions...can't tell you what Naraku's planning. But, I can tell you this: Inuyasha's brain is finally starting to put the pieces together (*gasp* Inu thinking!), and we should have a confrontation next chapter. Stress the 'should', as it may run longer on some preliminary events than I anticipate. *sigh* The story of my...well, stories. I'm glad to see you taking a Japanese class-I always loved mine! Anime and manga are perfect practicing grounds. Start with things like "My Neighbor Totoro" and "Kiki's Delivery Service". Don't worry about kanji in manga-in all young- people manga, the kanji are spelled out with kana beside it, so no problem. Just a lot of dictionary work! Itsumo review wo kaite kureta, arigatou gozaimasu!  
  
Soudesuka-Shurikens: *crying in relief* Oh! Oh! I thought I had lost you! I missed you! Your wit! Your intelligence! Your humbling praise! No! I didn't mean hat last one! (Yes I did.) I'm so glad I've been able to increase the intelligence quotient of another reader...no guarantees on that actually affecting your I.Q., though! And you think Sess's comments are 'powerful'? *scratches head* I don't know which ones...all I seem to remember are things like 'humans are scum' and 'must possess Tetsusaiga'. Thank you so much, though! I am completely guided by all the great writers I have read before, therefore take credit for nothing (except the plot and the really weighty words). Oh! And did you think of any more psychological illnesses for the Inu gang? LOL.  
  
Star*e*Night moon: Thanks! Here's the next one!  
  
Mistress Fluffy: *huggles* I can't tell you how much I appreciate the reliable reviews-every chapter! *sigh* This is bliss! And, look for updates once a week (unless I get really inspired). Life is getting a bit more hectic about now...  
  
Kidoairaku: O.o Well...I'll just pretend I didn't hear that. *whispers* But I completely understand the 'addiction' thing! *blushes* And I'm so flattered that my crappy works is considered 'good fanfiction' by you! (That is what you were saying, right? *hopeful Shippou eyes*) Anyway..yes, Volpa is one of my absolute favorites. Completely unfair that she writes such damn good work-then leaves it for a month or two! Argh! But I totally empathize with the hectic life-style getting in the way of fun pursuits like fantasizin-I mean, writing. (Oh! And the only pathetic review is an unwarranted flame!)  
  
Valeska: Thanks! You are now on my e-mail update list.  
  
Youkai Yume: LOL I think the lemon-er, 'adult dream sequence' (pesky censors!) Was one of my favorites, too! *sigh* Just something about getting to put your innermost fantasies down in words for all to see and enjoy...Gah! Put that way, it's terribly embarrassing, ne? *laughs* But that's what we're all doing here, right? Keep it up yourself...I just finished reading one of your fics last night. I left a review, too! Yay, me!  
  
MM.org:  
  
South Beach Girl: Let me guess...you're from South Beach? Ah, totally beside the point! Thank you for the honest review! (Although I totally love those who lie and say everything's completely understandable and perfect ;)) The "completed" thing is just an editing error from when I loaded the chapters. It means each chapter is complete, I thought. Hmmm...maybe I goofed there? Anyway, no, it's not a complete story. Still have quite a few chapters to go, though I'm not sure how many yet. It all depends on which ending I want to choose. Was this update fast enough? Thanks for the reivew!  
  
Whit: Thanks! The ending is a little ways off, but not very long in coming.  
  
Sesshyangel: O.o Huh???? Oh! Two different chapter numbers because of all the Author's notes/Review Responses stuck in between chapters. *blushes, scratches head* Sorry about that. Yeah, Sess is totally wrapped around Rin (and soon Kagome's) pinkies! (Alright, everyone together now: Awwwww!) And about the life-size Sess plushie...trust this writer/director when I say: it's much more comfortable than the real thing! Spiked armor and poison claws hurt! Ahem. Back to business. I had the best laugh about the whole dictionary thing! You see, when I was growing up, my mother used big words...then told me to go look it up rather than explain it. As a result, I would get caught up in *cringes, blushes* reading the dictionary. How embarrassing...and my friends used to call me the 'Human Dictionary'. (Then they wondered why I always got such good grades in school-except math, of course. *shudder*) Well, as long as you don't mind it, I'll keep it up! Besides, I get so tired of using the same words over and over again...synonyms are so much better, don't you think?  
  
Lady Sesshoumaru: Yes, well, I only have one fic that I'm angsting over n regards to ff.net story removals. And I think I left it at [R], but...I know I'm going to have to go back and check it. *sigh* And I already edited it for ff.net once! BTW, where is everyone getting this info that FF is even censoring at all? I've checked the news board, but nothing! Is this a word-of-mouth thing from people who have already been warned by the admin? It just doesn't make sense!(Of course, censoring never does.) Now the actual response! Yeah, I was going to have Sess execute Routarou (believe you me, he was really pushing for more bloodshed), but just couldn't do it. Want to know why? (This is dumb) I named him after the voice actor who speaks for Shigure in Fruits Basket *sigh, drool*. Told you it was dumb. Besides, I just had to slip in that little bit of caving on Sess's part. *laughs* And the image of Sess being 'pulled around on a string'!! *snicker, snort* Priceless! Thanks for the review, from one of my very favorite authors! Update soon, PLEASE?!? 


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